New Beginnings
by jhm.59
Summary: Decided after all to write a sequel to Behind the Ice, using material from a story I just took down. In my defense, the first version of BTI also had a sequel. However, I am mapping this one to shed some more light on Kezia. It will still have the O'Haras as the lead characters but will feature more of Kezia and Braden's personal life than its prequel. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**All characters and material from the Patriot are not mine**.

"Mama… _Mama_! Why is it so _cold_?"

Little insistent hands pushed impatiently at my arm and I turned over in bed with a groan.

"My dear, it would not be so if you stayed under your blankets for another hour."

"It _would_ be cold _anyway_." My daughter, Bryleigh pouted.

"Bryleigh!" My husband awoke next to me, admonishing my daughter with stern reproach. "Be _nice_ to your mother; it's hardly morning. Can you not go back to bed?" He finished wearily.

"No!" My daughter answered with unmoving stubbornness.

"Hey!" Another young voice pulled me to alertness; my son, James, stood in the doorway of the master bedchamber, glowering at his older sister. "You took my blankets!"

"Bryleigh Elizabeth-" I lowered my tone.

"He didn't need them!" My daughter replied hotly. "Jaime slept through the whole thing!"

I sighed and glanced over at my husband, who wore a disapproving look upon his face.

"Charles," I gripped his arm lightly before turning my attention to my son, James. "Jaime, go get your blankets from your sister's bed. "Yes Mama," Jaime turned and left the room, simpering at his sister who attempted to slink out after him.

"Not just yet, Bryleigh," Charles called after her. "Over here, please."

Thought she knew better than to fight her father further, Bryleigh still managed a look of utmost dislike, her green eyes bright against her white sleeping gown.

"Now, where have I seen that expression?" My husband murmured in my ear. I smirked and pecked his cheek.

"And she's only _eight_."

" _Papa_ ," Bryleigh grated impatiently.

"Yes, up here," Charles tapped the side of the bed so Bryleigh could follow the sound to him. My daughter complied begrudgingly.

"I don't care for your attitude," Charles frowned, lifting her up onto the bed beside us. "Do you understand, Bryleigh? I am _not_ pleased." He finished, taking her hands and pressing them to the frown on his mouth.

"He didn't need them!" Bryleigh protested. "Jaime didn't even wake when I took them!"

My husband's firm demeanor began to give way.

" _Next time_ , my little elf, get some from the hallway closet. They are stacked in the same place where they have always been."

"He wasn't using them," Bryleigh continued, turning away from her father.

"Bryleigh…" Charles squeezed her shoulders. "That is quite _enough_."

My daughter only pursed her lips, planting herself resolutely in disagreement while her father tightened his jaw, inhaling before he continued, "Bryleigh, _enough_."

For a moment, Bryleigh screwed up her face and it appeared she would continue on once more, but then, thinking better of it, she recanted.

" _Fine_." She mumbled.

"Indeed, _young lady_." Charles countered. "Now, off with you. Get dressed and take your brother downstairs. Since you're awake, you can both help Kezia with the meal preparations."

"But-"

"Not another word," Charles' voice hardened. " _Go_."

Wrinkling her nose, Bryleigh stalked out of the room, muttering angrily under her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

"And there goes our storm," Charles turned to me with a wry smile after watching our daughter huff off down the hall.

"Yes," I replied, "And I should probably follow her."

"Oh?" My husband pouted.

"Do you really believe she's going to listen so readily?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

Charles shook his head and answered with a yawn.

"Really, _General_ , it isn't _that_ early for you."

"But can I not have a little time to delay?" he asked, lingering less than a touch away from my lips.

"I doubt you'll get even five minutes." I answered, brushing my mouth against his, before I pulled away, toying with him before he could settle.

"That," my husband grabbed my shoulders roughly and forced me onto my back, "was not nice."

"It will be even less so if we're interrupted." I answered, sating him momentarily with a kiss. "Not yet, Charles."

The general released me with a playful frown.

"You really are _so_ sure."

"Have you spent two minutes with Jaime?" I asked raising a brow.

"Point observed and noted." My husband replied with a gentle laugh. "I really should have sold him to the Gypsies…"

I snorted.

"If Bry would allow it. She _does_ like her brother, as much as she'd prefer to have anyone think otherwise."

"So _you_ wouldn't mind then?" Charles quipped.

"No, I _would_ mind." I answered, shoving his arm. "He's _my_ heathen as well…"

"Very well, he stays, but for the good graces of his mother."

"Oh, I'm sure you would miss him too."

"Perhaps," Charles sighed, "a little…"

" _Bryleigh_!" James' voice echoed in a shriek from downstairs.

"On second thought," Charles turned to me.

"One of them will be going anyway, at this rate," I teased, "if Kezia hasn't sent them both off before I get downstairs."


	3. Chapter 3

Making my way downstairs, I stopped just ouside the kitchen entrance as a Kezia stood over my daughter, and looked suddenly up at me while I glanced from her, to Bryleigh and finally, to Jaime, who hid behind Kezia'skirts, covered from head to toe in flour, ringed by a mess of white.

"That was an entire week's worth of _good_ flour, _wasted_ for naught, little miss-" Kezia grated, looming hawkishly over Bryleigh. "And don't tell me you didn't know what sack you grabbed. You know exactly where it belongs, Bryleigh."

"Bryleigh _Elizabeth_ -" I cut in, stepping forward to lay a hand on my daughter's shoulder.

"I _don't_ care!" she spoke boldly, wrenching my hand away. "Jaime wouldn't let me alone!"

Kezia's mouth tightened, but before she could respond, I answered, "Well I _do_. You have taken valuable time and resources from your aunt-"

"There's more in the cellar!" Bryleigh interrupted crossly.

"And that is to be used for _later_ ," I replied shortly. "It is not to substitute for you dumping a good supply to waste! Do you understand?"

"Mama-"

"Do you understand, Bryleigh?"

My daughter quieted.

"You will clean it up." I continued.

"Why?" she cried suddenly. "I did it because Jaime was being a prat-"

"Bryleigh!" Kezia frowned.

"Well he _was_!"

"Regardless, you will clean up your mess. You know where the broom is; the far right corner of the cupboard." I spoke, working to stop any upcoming tirades.

" _Fine_." She answered mulishly.

"And you," I turned my attention to Jaime, who was growing more and more smug at his sisters predicament, "Go upstairs and have your father help you clean up. Then, come right back down here, and _don't_ be a bother."

"But Mum!-"

"You're a _mess_ , and I don't want it strewn about the house! Now, upstairs, and don't touch anything with your hands."

"Mu-"

" _Now_."

Jaime hung his head, pouting in dislike as he turned to leave the kitchen, murmuring "You're no fun…"

"Now, Bry," I looked back over at my daughter, who had begrudgingly fetched a broom, " _All_ of it, _clean_ , before I come back downstairs."

"When will that be?" she asked with an edge.

"Long enough for you to finish, but don't count on lazing around."

"You're so _mean_!" Bryleigh shot. "Jaime was asking for trouble and you're not even staying here to watch me finish! That's not fair!"

"Bryleigh-" Kezia stepped forward but I waived her off.

"Bryleigh, l am leaving for aa short whole to speak with your father. I trust you can clean this on your own, responsibly, without my supervision."

My daughter stilled and gripped the broom, looking down toward her feet.

"It's not fair. You favor Jaime."

"My dear," I stooped down and grasped my daughter's free hand, "I certainly do not. Jamie is younger and doesn't understand things quite the way you do. He will learn, but for now, he needs different means of being taught his manners. Please," I planted a light kiss on her forehead, "Be good. We love you very much. Jaime too, even if he seems more a nuisance than anything else."

"Jaime's a pest." Bryleigh murmured.

"Even so, you can set a better example."

"I don't want to."

"Well then, you'll spend much more time in trouble than out of it, and I know how much you value your riding time."

"All right, I'll try!" Bryleigh grated, turning away. "He's still a berk.."

"Start cleaning," I answered, choosing to ignore Bryleigh's rude language while taking notice to speak to Charles about what words might be filtering out of his office and into our daughter's vocabulary.


	4. Chapter 4

I left the kitchen before Bryleigh could answer my curt response, and had made it halfway up the stairs when a partially-dressed, bare-chested and wet-haired Jaime came barreling down the steps, with Charles striding closely behind.

"Mum-"

"Watch yourself!" I grabbed hold of my son as he crashed headlong into me.

"James!" Charles hissed, finally catching up to us. "Go to your room and put your shirt on!"

"No!" Jaime protested, trying to wrench his way out of my grasp. "I want to wear my brown one!"

"You've worn it three days in a row, and it _must_ be washed," I frowned.

"But I want my brown one!" Jaime continued to whine.

"Then let it wash, and wear one of your other ones…"

"I want it _now_!" Jaime demanded fiercely, slapping at my forearms to break free.

"You will _not_ hit your mother!" Charles had worn his final thread of composure and reached for our son, pulling him swiftly out of my arms and wrestled him securely against his chest. "To your room, and put a shirt on, or you won't be coming out!"

"NO!" Jaime yelled further, crying in earnest. "I DON"T WANT TO!"

"Good lord," I murmured, turning away from Jaime's shrill outbursts. The general would likely be another ten minutes, so I decided to wait for him in his study.

The room was little bigger than one of the smaller bedrooms in the house, but Charles had somehow managed to fit his desk and two large bookcases into it without making the place look too cramped. Of course this changed whenever there was a mound or two of paperwork, scattered erratically across the desktop. Other than this particular folly, my husband had maintained order in the room, even with Bryleigh and her brother darting in and out of it.

"Love?" Charles opened the door to his study several minutes later, "Did you wish to see me?"

"Only for a moment," I answered, "Has Jaime quieted so quickly?"

Charles smirked.

"You _do_ underestimate me."

"Entirely," I teased back. "But yes, I _do_ wish to speak with you."

"Of course," my husband settled into his desk chair, resting his right ankle on his left knee while he gestured to another chair across from his.

"It's nothing of terrible importance," I declined. "I would just like to allow Kezia to have tomorrow off."

"Tomorrow?" Charles echoed. "Why _tomorrow_?"

"It's her birthday," I reddened.

"Oh…" my husband fell silent. "She never talked to me about that. "

"Well did you think she didn't have one?" I returned.

"No," Charles recovered, also flustered. "She never told me, and I never asked."

"Of course you didn't," I rolled my eyes. "That would be _too_ diligent of you."

"She's _your_ friend."

"Yes, and I am ever so grateful that you let her along with us. Now can you give her tomorrow off?"

"Would we take Braden too?"

I shrugged. "Perhaps, but then again, she may decide otherwise. Stay open to the thought, though, yes?"

Charles frowned in contemplation.

"I think we can handle a day… but you are putting me in straits. At least it isn't _you_ scrubbing the floor." He chuckled.

"Such a wonderful mate you are," I huffed. "You would be buried in parchment rolls if I didn't clean your desk as often as I do."

"Touché," Charles smiled. "I didn't think her birthday would be so close to yours."

"Three weeks difference; she's still four years older. And, I didn't say anything the first year because we were caught up in more pressing matters."

"My apologies," the general gestured for me to come nearer and pulled me into his lap for an indulgent kiss.

"Speaking of that pressing matter," I pulled away from him, shushing him with a finger to his mouth, "She's downstairs, and with any luck, she's cleaning up the mess she made."

"Her mess?" Charles asked. "Not Jaime's?"

"Jaime got covered in flour, but yes, your little _elf_ did the work." I replied thinly. "And she had some very _pointed_ words to express her reasoning."

"She did?" Charles looked guiltily at me.

"Really, Charles, she didn't learn to call her brother a 'berk' from no one."

"She heard that?"

"She hears _everything_ ; you know that…"

"Of course…"

I sighed.

"That girl is going to be the end of me. Jaime is trouble, but he's manageable. Bryleigh is too smart for her own good… It's just like W-"

I cut my sentence short and Charles' expression darkened.

"Just like when you're being stubborn?"

"Exactly," I finished with relief. "I'm sorry you have to deal with _two_ of me."

"No; Bryleigh will still listen to me. You'd much rather fight."

I opened my mouth to protest but fell back to gentility.

"Only when I must. And if I'm wrong, I'll concede."

"Indeed." Charles agreed. "Let us hope she learns that from you too."


	5. Chapter 5

"Perhaps," I answered. "At least she isn't by herself."

"I could say the same about you," my husband replied with a smirk. "You can be a right thorn when you get in a mood."

"You kept me anyway," I leaned in until our noses almost touched. "You're the fool."

"The alternative was less than appealing." Charles finished with a gentle kiss.

"But," I pulled away, turning serious once more, "Do you blame me still?"

"Mary-"

"Do you?"

The general pursed his lips, holding me in stone-silence.

"No, I do not." He replied slowly.

"But you _are_ angry?" I pressed.

"Mary, regardless, it doesn't matter-"

"But it _does_!"

"Well I cannot pretend that the memories don't bring feelings of hostility!" Charles answered in exasperation. "You _both_ put me on a very bad end, not once or twice, but _three_ times!"

I turned away immediately sorry that I had even brought up the past events with his subordinate, a man who was no less hated than the devil himself.

"Mary," Charles recalled me from my despair with a gentle voice.

"What do you want?" I answered, feeling myself flush with shame.

"Mary," he repeated with a frown, stroking the side of my face, "I _kept_ you."

"Just for Bryleigh…"

"Oh _certainly_ ," Charles shook his head. "Which is why we have Jaime, too."

I sniffed, unable to hide a smile.

"I suppose so…"

"And, he hasn't been sold off…"

" _Yet_." I added with a laugh.

"There we are," Charles eased back with a grin. "Better then, yes?"

"For now." I replied quietly.

"Good enough," he answered, "You have everything right here."

"General?" a voice from behind the door interrupted followed by a muffled knock.

"That would be Kezia," my husband commented. "I wanted to ask her about hiring another servant."

"Charles, she does good work," I began to protest.

"Of course she does," the general agreed, "I meant to have someone else to take care of the stables and help with the outside chores. Braden doesn't need to feel like such a mule."

"I see..."

" _And_ it would do Kezia some good to have someone other than just us to be around. You two are friends, but the dynamic between she and I can get a shade grey at times. I believe she would be more comfortable with another in her same position."

"Perhaps you are right. I sometimes forget the working component in our relationship. She was my first friend at the fort…"

"Really? I thought it was someone else."

"He was _not_ a friend." I answered with stout resolve. "A fiend, and a tempting one, but just the same, he was _not_ a friend."

Charles held up his hands in defeat.

"All right. I concede. Now, will you give me some time to meet with Miss Welsh?"

"Of course," I stood to leave. "As you wish."


	6. Chapter 6

"Thank you for looking after your mess," I returned to the kitchen, where Bryleigh was sitting in her spot at the table, still frowning in upset.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I can't find my jacket, " She mumbled. "I wanted to go outside when I had finished cleaning, but a can't find my jacket. It's not in the sitting room where I left it."

"Did you hang it up?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps it fell-"

"It did _not_!"

"Then it might have been moved- Bryleigh!..."

My daughter burst into tears and reached for me, clawing at my arms as she tried to hide her face against my chest.

"They're not supposed to move things!" she cried.

"My dear," I held her to me, rocking her back and forth, "No one meant any harm. I'm sure it was moved and whoever moved it forgot to tell you. Bryleigh, it's happened before."

"It's not fair," she sobbed. "Can't they just follow the rules?"

"I'm sure they can, but people aren't perfect."

"But they can try," Bryleigh sniffed.

"They certainly can," I laughed, and Bryleigh's expression brightened.

"Mama, can we go find my Jacket? I still want to go outside."

* * *

Thirty minutes later found the both of us outside in weather so chilly that Charles nearly barred us at the front door.

"She needs some time," I defended with a pointed look, and with a warning to not be out too long, the general let us pass, halting Jaime by the shoulder before he could squeeze through.

Though it was too cold to ride, my daughter wanted to visit the barn to visit the cats who made their homes in the haylofts. The horses too, would enjoy a brushing, even if they couldn't be out on such a day.

No sooner had I opened the stable doors with Bryleigh tugging impatiently at my skirts than we were greeted with a long, yowling cry. A small black cat with a crooked white stripe on its nose hopped out of one of the haystacks and began to circle under Bryleigh's legs.

"Three-Legs!" she giggled, stooping down to scratch the feline between his shoulders. "He has his own call for me, and he always knows when I'm here." She said matter-of-factly. "I'm his favorite!"

"Of course," I knelt down to scratch between his ears. "With good reason."

"He catches mice good as any of the others," Bryleigh sniffed. "A missing leg makes no difference to him."

"Good thing, or your papa wouldn't have been so lenient."

"Because Papa _knew_ I was right. Not Three-Legs' fault he came out with one less limb." She affirmed, gathering the cat in her arms to cradle him close to her chest.

"I agree, he does as well as the others."

"But he's so much more friendly," Bryleigh buried her face in his fur while Three-Legs purred and nuzzled her cheek.

"I'm glad he has you." I smiled.

"Forever." My daughter finished. "He's mine forever."

"So you won't miss him if I ask you to help me groom the horses then?" I asked.

"Not if he comes with."

"I figured he would anyway. Now help me get the brushes."

Bryleigh set the cat down on the stable floor and he tore off into an empty stall.

"Who needs it today?" she asked, feeling along the stall gates until she reached the door to the tack room.

"Ember," I answered "You can grab the coarse brush for her. She's got a full day of dirt stuck in her coat."

"What about Papa's horse?"

"She'll get some brushing too, but first, we deal with the messiest."

Bryleigh giggled.

"She's just going to get dirty again; why does it matter?"

"Do you stop taking baths because you're going to end up dirty anyway?"

"No," my daughter continued to laugh. "I've got the brushes."

"Thank you. Ember is all the way in the back today, on the far left. And be careful not to run into the rake next to her stall door."

"Yes, Mama," Bryleigh turned away and started quickly toward Ember's stall, brushes in her right hand while she felt her way along to the back of the barn with the other.

"Careful you don't get a sliver! " I called.

"I'm fine!" she answered, already halfway to Ember's stall.

"I know; you always are," I murmured, looking past my daughter at the small black mare with a splotch of white on her nose, who stuck her head out of her stall and whinnied a greeting. Ember had handled the move to London from the Colonies with ease and flourished all the more when Charles moved us outside of the capitol, and she was able to have run of real, lush pasture. Still, her generous appetite remained, and both Jaime and Bryleigh were ordered not to fatten her up with sweet treats. My husband's mare, on the other hand had more sense about her food intake and was allotted the occasional carrot.

"The leads are hanging near the door, Bryleigh. To your right."

My daughter responded unintelligibly, and felt for the hook where the lead-ropes were kept while Ember watched in motionless patience.

"Left side first," I instructed, striding over to meet her, "And don't let it drag on the floor."

"I _know_ , Mama!" Bryleigh answered with a groan, opening the stall gate before she reached out to push against Ember's chest, asking the mare to step back so she could enter the stall. The horse reached out and butted her affectionately with her nose.

"Silly; move back, Ember!" My daughter kissed encouragingly at the mare and she complied, swishing her tail indifferently as she let Bryleigh have charge.

"Good girl," Bryleigh paused, reaching slowly up Ember's thick, muscled neck, running her fingertips through the rugged, semi-coarse winter coat, up to the back of the mare's jaw where she indulged Ember in a brief scratch. "You're so good," my daughter leaned in to Ember's neck and the mare closed her eyes, resting her right hind leg, perfectly content.

"Bry, clip her in, please," I interrupted her with a light nudge. "You'll have plenty of time for cuddling as soon as she's brushed."

Reluctantly, Bryleigh pulled away and felt for the end of the lead.

"Left side first," I repeated.

"Mmm," my daughter grabbed at Ember's halter, jerking it as she felt for the throat-latch. "Right there," she looked back at me for confirmation.

"Good; clip her in and give me the end of the lead," I encouraged.

"Here," Bryleigh reached out, following the direction of my voice and grasped tightly to my skirts.

"Thank you," I knelt down and took the end of the lead from her, tying a lose knot around a ring fixed on the side of Ember's stall. "Get your brush? Three steps back, right behind Ember's front leg. And don't forget mine as well."

"Yes Mama."

Through the whole ordeal, Ember stayed at rest, not at all bothered by the child scurrying around and next to her. She was not a horse I would have ever been wary about having near Bryleigh or Jaime. Ember was too mild and good-natured to pitch a fit, but I still kept watch and held her firmly while my daughter brought me my brush.

"I can brush her legs," Bryleigh suggested.

"All right. Slowly, and let her know you're there. I'll start with her face and neck then."

"Can we braid her when we're done?"

"We'll see if we have time, my dear. Let's start with her legs first."

Bryleigh voiced her agreement and felt her way back to Ember's left foreleg, brushing her from the top down.

"She's all dusty," she commented, picking at the fur near Ember's shoulder.

"Well, Ember's been in the barn all day," I smiled. "And I bet she had a roll or two in the hay."

"She certainly did!" Bryleigh laughed aloud, waking the mare from her brief rest. "Funny horse!"

"She is a bit funny, isn't she? She hasn't a care about looking presentable."

"She likes the straw too much." Bryleigh added. "And she's lazy."

"Your father thinks so, but, at least she lets you ride her without complaint."

"She _is_ a good horse." Bryleigh answered, picking a couple of burs out of the mare's coat before starting to brush. Meanwhile, I moved back toward the mare's head and held her face still while I made light strokes up and down her face with the brush, loosening bits of dust and dirt, before wiping her eyes, earning a tiny, protesting whine from the mare, before I worked my way to her forelock, which hung in a long mess of knots.

"How you get this tied up _every_ morning is beyond my comprehension. I suppose it's all a game to you, hm?" I looked Ember in the eye and she returned my admonition with a laughing wuffle to which I could only grin. "You're lucky you've got a pretty face. It's just enough to look past that ample belly of yours."

While Bryleigh continued to work on the mare's legs, I finished her neck and moved on to her back and rump, and finished shortly after my daughter, leaving Ember's soft and clean.

"Can we braid her?" Bryleigh asked.

"I think we have time for her mane, yes. But nothing too fancy."

My daughter squeaked and clapped her hands.

"Up you get," I reached for her and held her up to the side of Ember's neck. The mare groaned and leaned in closer, excited for further pampering.

"Here you are," I separated a part of Ember's mane and fed it into Bryleigh's hands.

"One, two, _three_ ," she split the part into three and slowly felt her way through the braid. "Over and switch…"

"Very good," I kissed her cheek.

"Does it look all right?" She asked, tying off the first braid.

"It does. You're getting good at this."

"I can't see it though," Bryleigh murmured.

"No, but you can _feel_ it, and that is as good as any."

"Her mane is so coarse… Mama, your hair is thick, but hers… it's like wax. It doesn't like to bend."

"It's a different type of hair from ours. And horses don't have feeling there. That's why Ember doesn't shy when you pull her mane."

"That's odd…" Bryleigh reached for more mane to braid.

"Perhaps, but it has its uses."

* * *

Half an hour later, Bryleigh and I made our way back to the house, where we were greeted by Kezia's son, Braden.

"Welcome back, Aunt." He grinned. "And the little miss, too."

"I'm not _little_!" Bryleigh bristled.

"Sure…"

"I'm _not_!"

"All right, why don't you two go start the next war in another room, so that I can at least get through the door."

Braden blushed and grasped at Bryleigh's hand. "Come on, Mum's making cakes; They'll be done any minute now…"

With a scramble and scuffle, the two had disappeared to the kitchen and I made my way to the sitting room, where Jaime sat, huddled under a blanket.

"My dear, are you all right?" I asked, sitting next to him.

"I'm tired," he pulled the blanket from his face and stared at me.

"Would you like to sit with me?"

Jaime nodded and shuffled into my lap, curling up against my chest while I reached for the blanket and covered him.

"Better?"

"Yes…" my son's came muffled from under the cover. "I want to go to sleep." Jaime pressed further into my stomach and was soon motionless.

Taking the opportunity for a short rest of my own, I shifted my son into a more comfortable position and closed my eyes.

"My little sprite, my Jaime…"


	7. Chapter 7

"Mary…" a voice called from the very edges of my consciousness. "Supper. Up now…"

"La…ter." I responded in sleepy complaint, feeling a sudden lift of pressure from my lap.

"Pa…"

Forcing my eyes to open, I squinted up as Charles rested Jaime against his shoulder.

"Will you come for the meal?"

"Shortly, yes."

"I will see you then."

I answered with a vague nod as Charles turned and left the room with our son still resting against him. Though I hadn't expected to nap as long as I did, I was still tired and hadn't yet worked up an appetite, but I resolved myself to making a brief appearance at the midday meal.

""Mama, you're late." Bryleigh greeted me with a pointed observation. "The food is getting cold."

"I did not tell you to wait for me." I answered, glancing toward the head of the table where, Charles sat, glaring warningly at Braden and Jaime, who were attempting to dispose of their vegetables in their serviettes.

"My apologies," the general replied, turning to Kezia who had entered the room with a pot of hot stew. "And thank you, Kezia."

"General," she acknowledged before swatting Braden lightly on his shoulder. "You're a poor example for manners…"

"Mum…" He grated, but ceased his attempts to throw his food away.

"Mary," she offered me a bowl of soup.

"I'm sorry, but I really haven't much of an appetite," I answered with a blush. "I think I'll go upstairs, actually…"

Charles paused and studied my expression.

"Really," I pressed. "I'm tired; it's all this cold weather. I'm _not_ ill."

Apparently satisfied, my husband nodded quietly and I stood to leave.

"You're sure?" Kezia asked.

"Quite. I will have my meal later." I insisted dismissing my friend with a subtle wave and left the room.

Upstairs in the master chamber, I settled into bed, giving the coverlets a forceful pull, back onto my side. Out of the two of us, it was Charles who managed to steal the bedding on cold nights. Catching a hint of his smell on a gathering of sheets, I pressed it to my face and sighed contentedly. I cherished it now, but at another time, it had brought only confusion and uncertainty. However, we each to our part, had managed a relationship within the marriage. It had been far from easy, and the general was not my _first_ choice, but he became the _best_ choice, even if he did leave me in the cold on some nights.

"Thief," I muttered, moving around before I found a comfortable position, and fell into an easy slumber.

* * *

Some time later, I stirred and awakened to see Charles sitting in a chair near the large bedroom window, thumbing through one of his books while Jaime sat next to him, playing with a ball and cup.

"When did you get here?"

Charles put down his reading and looked over at me.

"Half an hour ago."

"Yes!... you talk in your sleep, Mum!" my son piped up.

"Jaime!" I reddened.

"It was nothing too scandalous," Charles assured with a smirk. "Actually, I don't even know what you said."

I looked down at Jaime who shrugged.

"You just _talked_."

"How long was I asleep?"

Perhaps an hour, maybe a little more." Charles replied.

"And you didn't wake me when you got in?"

" _No_. You can be mean if we don't wake you up right." Jaime spoke, crossing his arms and puffing his chest out.

"You would too if you had a little monster jumping all over your face."

"So Papa said I had to be quiet if I was going to be here, and we let you alone." Jaime finished.

"Well thank you," I glanced at the general. "It was very thoughtful."

"You're welcome," Charles' mouth twitched with a suppressed laugh. "Now Jaime, will you please leave your mother and I for a moment?"

"Why?" Jaime suddenly became pouty. "Why must I leave? I was _quiet_!" He insisted.

"You were, and I am grateful for that. I would like to speak with your mother privately. Only for a few minutes." he reassured.

Jaime gathered his toys with an irriated huff, narrowing his eyes as he glanced from his father to myself and then back again.

"Only a few minutes," I echoed. "And then you can come back in."

"Can I sit with you?" he asked.

"Later, yes. Now go on…"

With a nod, Jaime started toward the door, turning back briefly to the general.

"Only a _few minutes_."

"Get out, you little whelp!" Charles waved his hand, rolling his eyes.

Jaime skittered out the door, and closed it behind him, laughing and screeching his way down the stairs.

Charles turned to me and groaned.

"We must come up with a price for that little oddling."

"No amount would be enough."

"Shame," my husband sighed.

"You wanted to speak with me?" I asked, sitting up in bed.

"Nothing too worrying," the general replied, "are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, I'm just cold and tired. The change in weather has been playing with my energy."

"Just your energy?"

Yes, _just_ that. We've hardly had time for other possibilities." I replied, narrowing my gaze. "And I would _know_."

"You don't want another?" Charles could not contain his amusement.

"Not with these two cubs! I won't sleep properly until I'm on my deathbed."

"We'll just have to make you more comfortable then," he smiled.

"Give me more coverlets then. You _steal_ them every time it freezes at night."

"I'm sorry," Charles put his book down and stood to join me on the bed. "I'll have Braden keep the fire longer this evening, maybe heat a few blankets as well."

"How generous," I kissed him. "You're spoiling me."

O'Hara laughed softly and pulled away, nipping my bottom lip. "I told a little boy that we'd only be a short while."

"Then you'd best keep your word."

"Certainly. Will you be coming back downstairs?"

"Soon, but Jaime wants some time."

"Of course," my husband replied. "I'll not keep him waiting."


	8. Chapter 8

"I thought you would take _forever_!" Jaime announced in a dramatic tone, rushing into the room as soon as Charles had left.

"It was hardly five minutes, and were you waiting at the door?" I asked, glancing pointedly at him as he clambered up onto the bed next to me.

"No, I went downstairs for cakes. Kezi-"

"Just finished making them," I smiled. "Your sister and cousin had the same idea."

"And they got the _fresh_ ones, too." Jaime wrinkled his nose.

"I don't think they'd spoil after a minute or two out of the oven."

"No," Jaime lowered his head. "But I wanted mine first."

I laughed, shaking my head.

"It makes no difference."

"Are you going to have one?" Jaime asked keenly. "They're delicious! The best!"

"I will, yes, but after they cool a little. I'd rather not burn my mouth. They'll still be fresh."

"Maybe," Jaime hesitated. "Why did you leave dinner early?"

"I was just tired." I replied, ruffling his hair. Jaime squeaked and shoved my hand away. "Mum, I just _combed_ it!"

"I can hardly tell with your curls."

"Well I _did_!" he declared.

"All right, I'll stop," I chuckled, while my son snorted and frowned up at me before he continued, "Is that what Papa wanted to ask you about? "

"He was only checking in."

"But you said you were _fine_. I heard you at the table. What does it matter?"

"It's good manners, Jaime."

"But you hate that. " he jested, pressing a hand down on my leg as he moved onto on my lap.

I raised an eyebrow.

"I don't hate it-"

"Yes you do," he interrupted morosely.

"I don't like it, that's true," I explained, "But I understand and appreciate the gesture of politeness."

"But it's not needed," Jaime tried to reason.

"Perhaps not," I agreed, "But I still feel better for your father's actions, even if not at the time of occurance. He is a good man, to take the time to see that other people, whether it's me or you, or your sister, are safe and comfortable."

"That's a _lot_ to do." Jaime replied, still working out the lesson.

"I don't expect you to be spot on at it just yet. Little things first."

"Like what?"

"Going to bed without a fuss, not picking on your sister first thing in the morning…"

Jaime made a sour expression

"Not pick on _her_? She starts it!"

"That is your choice, Jaime. You know what the better option is, but the decision is yours. Being polite does not always mean we do what we want. It means that we set aside squabbles for the good of one another."

"It's not fair," Jaime frowned.

"It may not appear so now, but wait for things to happen. You always find some gleam of light if you always aim to be your best "

"I don't want to do it right now though," my son commented. "I want to go play swords with Braden."

"Nothing above the waist then. I don't need you missing an eye yet." I warned. "And taps only. I don't care if they're wood; a well placed blow will still do damage."

"Yes Mum," Jaime nodded.

"Get your coat. No more than an hour; it's nearly frozen outside."

" _Mum! I know!"_ my son huffed and slid off the bed. "And I'll clean my shoes off when I get in the house."

"Thank you," I called after him.

Rising from bed, I went downstairs to see if Kezia needed any assistance. True, she was a servant, but I needed something to occupy me _and_ keep me warm.

"Is everything all right," my friend asked as soon as I had walked into the kitchen.

"Of course," I replied, "I was just tired. The cold can get wearing."

Kezia paused but said nothing to jest , and I continued, "Are there any cakes left?"

"Barely," she snorted humorously. "I daresay James was lucky enough to even get a small one. The other two made off like fiends. But no bother; I've learned well enough to double the batch. I was just going to put the other one in to bake."

"I can finish it for you," I suggested. "I need something to keep me occupied _and_ warm."

"And what would you have me do then?" Kezia asked.

"Relax until they're finished? You know I can make these as well as you can."

Kezia smiled.

"A rarity, but yes."

"Oh hush!" I countered, unable to hide a laugh. "I am perfectly capable "

"Well, if you really must…"

"I do. The heat in here is _perfect_."

"Very well, Milady. " Kezia nodded and dismissed herself.

Evening closed in early, with the boys struggled and dragged their way upstairs to clean up from their outside mock-duel and then went straight to bed. Bryleigh too, retired to her room, taking one of her brother's toy soldiers, a small drummer , with her to bed.

"Jaime, are you-" I paused when I peeked into my son's room. He was already obliviously asleep, head turned to the side, with one arm draped up on his pillow and the other tucked at his side.

"Good night then, little sprite," I smiled and closed his door to continue to Bryleigh's room.

"Mama?"

"Yes, I'm here." I replied, crossing my daughter's room to sit beside her.

"You like this one," I touched the little figure in her hand.

"Does he wear a jacket?" Bryleigh asked curiously, feeling her way over the soldier. "He's got a drum, right here in front, but where's his jacket?"

I took Bryleigh's right index finger and carefully guided it over the front of the figure, starting at his shoulders and went down the front of his chest so she could feel the buttons of his uniform.

"He does have a jacket then," Bryleigh answered happily. "What color is it?"

"It's…red." I answered hesitantly.

"What is that? What is red?" she insisted.

"Um…" I grasped for an understandable explanation. "Red is… well… red is _warm_."

"Warm? How is it warm? I don't understand, Mama." Bryleigh frowned.

"I mean it is a warm color," I clarified. "Like heat. Heat is warm, and it increases your internal temperature. When your cheeks get warm they turn red. That is why someone might ask if you're blushing or tell you that you're red in the face. They can see the heat that turns your skin a different color."

"Hmm…" Bryleigh contemplated, "Are there other warm colors?"

"There are, and there are cold ones too." I added.

"Please tell me!" Bryleigh began to get excited.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, when I've had time to think about it."

"Okay, but don't forget." My daughter insisted.

"I won't," I kissed her cheek. "Don't forget to put this one away before you go to sleep," I gestured at the toy.

"Yes, Mama."

"Good night, Bry."

"Night, Mama."

"Two in bed, I will take that miracle." I smiled to myself and returned to the master bedchamber.

"Mary, are you in?" there was a soft knock and Kezia peeked into the room

"Of course, come in."

"Thank you," Kezia answered, stepping in and closing the door behind her.

"Are you all right?"

"Perfectly," she replied, "And all the more because the boys went to bed without so much as a word."

"Just what I was thinking as well," I laughed. "A rarity, but I welcome it all the same."

"True enough." Kezia agreed. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for giving me the day off tomorrow."

"Of course. It's a gift, and you more than deserve it ." I answered.

"You're a good friend." Kezia spoke quietly. "Is there anything more than I might help you with for the evening?"

"If you don't mind, and I can do it on my own otherwise, might you heat a bath for me? In the large tub…"

"Not at all. It might be an hour. Can you wait for the water?"

"Of course, and. I'll get the stones."

Exactly one hour later, the water was heated and poured into a large porcelain tub that sat in a small room to the right of the master chamber, alone except for a small stool and a plain linen closet.

"It's ready," Kezia commented as she opened the door. "Shall I leave you?"

"Thank you, and yes, please. That is all for the evening."

"As you wish. Good night."

Kezia inclined her head politely and lit two candles before she left the room; I stripped down, inhaling the lavender she had used with the water before easing in to the tub.

"Perfect…" The tub was hot enough to steam and I stretched out in the warmth, feeling the water soak through my hair and around my face and neck before I sat up to watch the candlelight dance on the walls.

"Mmmm…" I relaxed further, resting my right leg on the side of the tub.

"Not sharing tonight, then?"

I started and brought my leg back into the water with a splash.

"Dammit, Charles, I didn't hear you!" I said hoarsely, still upset with surprise.

"That was my hope," Charles didn't bother to hide his smugness. "Love, the steam is coming through the door."

"I take my baths hot." I answered simply.

"Clearly, and I must say, it does you _very_ well."

"Oh you _do_ try…" I turned away from him as he stepped closer, tugging his shirt over his shoulders.

"Can't I join you?" he asked.

"You don't like anything too above tepid." I replied. "And I was here first."

"Oh," the general frowned, kneeling next to the tub beside me. "Not even a little?" he pressed, kissing the side of my face.

"No," I brushed him off.

"You're sure?" Charles whispered in my ear, biting the tip lightly as he dipped his hand into the water.

"Mmmm….That's _cheating_!" I raked the water with my fingertips, catching him full in the face.

"Then I will leave," He stood to go, wiping water from his face, unable to hide the smile twitching at his mouth.

"That would be worse."

"So you'll share?"

"Bastard," I crossed my arms and huffed.

"That makes you no less appealing," Charles commented, stripping out of his remaining clothing before he sat down across from me. "Goodness, are you trying to boil flesh?"

I laughed.

"I _said_ that I prefer my baths _hot_. You may leave, the offer still stands."

"You said that would be worse."

"Perhaps."

"I will take my chances here," Charles answered, leaning in for a kiss as he threaded his fingers into my hair. "Milady…"


	9. Chapter 9

Somehow, over an hour after Charles had interrupted my evening relaxation, we managed to leave the still-warm bath and stagger with dripping footprints into our bedchamber.

"This is _so_ ridiculous! We're going to get caught…" I grasped the general's shoulders, laughing giddily.

"Shame," Charles held me to his chest as he locked the door.

"You're a bad influence," I replied, kissing him greedily, brushing my hands teasingly up and down his chest and down to his stomach, feeling his abdominal muscles tense under my touch.

"Mary-" my husband's hold turned into a vicegrip, "You're still warm," he looked down at me, his eyes dilated in the dim slivers of moonlight peeking through the bedroom window.

"How do you know?" I murmured, kissing his chest.

"Here," he leaned down and kissed my neck and collarbone before he continued down to my breasts. "You're flushed."

"My dear…" I released a harsh gasp, feeing his mouth around me and his tongue stroking me further while he began to suckle with increasing demand.. "Oh my-"

Charles had moved his right hand further and started teasing my entrance while he kept suckling and it was all I could do to claw at his shoulders to keep from collapsing.

"Too much?" the general asked huskily, pausing to look up at my face.

"I'm not going to make it if you keep me right here," I answered, biting my lip and closing my eyes.

"Oh?" the general turned back to his attentions, pushing harder until I was panting against him.

"Charles…at least let me lie down—"

Mercifully, the general let me go and all but stalked me to the bedside, not waiting for me to settle before he had me pinned beneath him.

"Greedy…" I teased just before Charles covered my mouth with a harsh kiss, silencing me further with his tongue as he thrust quickly into me with an abrasive strength that had me crying into his mouth.

"Mary!" he eased up as soon as he started, looking down at me with panic.

"No," I found my breath. "Keep going. You were faster than I anticipated…" I encouraged him with a gentle kiss, pulling him back down on me.

"You're sure," Charles hesitated, stroking my face with his thumb.

"Hurry up before you wear me out!"

The general hid a laugh and returned my demand with a particularly smart thrust.

"Still a little fox," he breathed, nipping at my throat.

"Mmm," I reached down and grazed him with my fingertips just as he started to deepen inside me.

"Christ—" his breathing caught in ragged bursts. "You…"

I smiled crookedly, scratching my fingernails lightly back up the middle of his stomach, encouraging a low moan before he grabbed my hand and pinned it above my head, holding my wrist immobile.

"Not yet…" He paused with a momentary kiss, easing his free hand down to my pelvic area and pressed lightly around our coupling area.

I could feel the heat rise from my skin; Charles was going to finish me first, but only on _his_ timing.

"My god, will you _stop_?" I breathed, arching to meet his increasingly aggressive speed.

"No." He smirked. "If I did, you'd be angry."

"Devil…"

Charles raised an amused brow and brought his hand back up near my throat, resting his palm lightly on my neck and chest. He was nearing his climax and I could only wonder how I was still holding back. With a long exhale, I placed my hand over his and met his finishing thrust, contracting almost painfully around him as I finished, feeling him still and hold himself inside me.

"My dear," he looked down at me with tender eyes before he inhaled and tensed sharply, gasping as he met his release.

"General," I replied, wrapping my arms around him as he rested briefly on my chest.

"When was the last time we did this?" He asked wryly after catching his breath.

"You mean when did we not have to be concerned about intrusion?" I met his gaze.

"I don't know."

"Perhaps I could agree to just _two_." The general sniggered, easing out of me to rest on his side.

"I don't know what we'd do with three." I replied, resting my leg over his hip. "Maybe the third child will be the behaved one."

Charles snorted.

"With our fortune, it's a downward slant for good behavior."

"At least we have a boy and a girl. We needn't worry about that any more."

Charles frowned.

"You still think about it?" He asked quietly, looking at me unblinkingly.

"No." I looked away. "At least not that way. Just…James has always looked up to Bryleigh. She's his sister, and never has he treated her foully for her health."

"Because that is all James knows. That is his everyday reality." Charles finished. "I don't understand, Mary; what are you getting at?" He asked, holding my hand in his.

"In a few years, things will be different. Others will start to notice and separate the two. They won't be siblings, they'll be identified individually. Bryleigh won't just be Jaime's sister, Charles…and how is he to feel when other children treat her differently, _badly_ even?" I went on, feeling my face flush with emotion."Will he then resent her?"

"What brought this on?" Charles asked, his eyes etched with concern. "Why now?"

"It was something stupid; it's happened before so I don't know why it stung so particularly today." I answered in a small voice.

"What happened," my husband pressed, leaning in closer to me while pulling the coverlets over us.

"Her jacket was moved from the sitting room." I answered with a humorless smile. "Its happened before, but she was so upset. Granted, she was in a sour before, but it just pulled at her last string, and I hate seeing her feel so… _unable."_

Charles shook his head and responded with silence.

"It's not fair."

"No," the general nodded in agreement. "I've no illusions about what lies ahead. All the same, I cannot say how difficult things will become."

"Such comfort," I replied dryly.

"Would you rather I lied?"

"No." I answered, tightening my mouth.

My husband frowned and pulled me to him in a firm embrace, kissing the top of my head.

"No further on this tonight," he said, squeezing my side. "This is our evening. Tomorrow can be theirs."


	10. Chapter 10

I had fallen asleep almost immediately after settling in, but a soft breeze creeping across my bare shoulder was enough to stir me awake.

"Mmm", I grumbled, tugging the coverlets up to my chin.

"Mary, what are you…doing?" Charles awakened reluctantly and attempted a bleary-eyed stare.

" _Freezing_."

"Oh."

" _Oh_?" I echoed. "For all of your abilities, you are so very useless—"

Charles wasn't listening; he had drifted back into slumber as quickly as he had awoken.

" _You_ ," I rolled my eyes and gave my husband a resounding shove in the middle of his chest. "Give me those!" I tugged the covers away, further to my side of the bed just as the general reawakened, cursing under his breath.

"Bloody-"

"Well I'm not going to _freeze_!" I interrupted with a snort.

"At my expense?" Charles was fully awake and had a fistful of coverlets in his left hand, ready to jerk them back to his side.

"You're big enough," I replied.

"Tuck in closer," Charles barely suppressed a snicker.

"You _move_."

"Please?" The general's tone was innocent enough but I knew the glint in his eyes without needing to see it.

"Charles, honestly!"

"Have you any better solution, my dear?"

"Give me the sheets!" I huffed.

My husband laughed and held them away, sitting up to grab me around with his other arm, trapping me on his chest.

"Sir—!" The general stopped me with a forceful kiss, and I bit his lip in response.

"That's not an excuse," I growled, still sore after the covers, even if I did enjoy his teasing.

"I wasn't making one," Charles dropped his voice to a softer low tone, training his gaze steadily upon my own. "I was encouraging you to _reason_."

"Of course you were." I said dryly.

"Well, my dear," Charles shifted off of his back and I moved to lie beside him, "Are you tucking in closer or not?"

"If you give me my fair share," I replied, inching closer until I could feel my back pressed against his chest.

"As you wish," Charles pulled me to him, tucking the coverlets tightly around us, holding me firmly with his forearm barred around my middle.

"Better?" He asked, giving my side a gentle squeeze.

"For now," I answered loftily.

The general grunted his satisfaction and shifted for further comfort, lying with me in the quietness of our darkened room, idly loosening his hold as he moved his hand to the middle of my stomach. I reflexively inhaled and felt him tense nervously in response. There was hardly a scar anymore, but the internal wounds made years earlier from my late brother still managed to haunt my more private moments with Charles, even after endless time and reassurance.

"I'm so sorry…" the general murmured timorously.

"No-" my voice wavered.

"You're shaking," Charles cut it, clearly uneasy.

"It is _not_ your doing," I said with unintentional force. "I'm sorry… it's not your fault. It wasn't then, and it isn't now."

"But do _you_ know?"

I turned to face him; Charles' expression was serious; his brow was furrowed, and his eyes were dark and wary.

"Do you know?" He repeated quietly, reaching up to touch the side of my face.

"I…I am learning. There are moments that send me back, but I know you're not David. "

"Can I do anything to ease the memories?" Charles asked, still worried.

"No; they're slowly losing their strength. You're doing exactly what I need from you."

Charles searched my expression for a minute and then nodded in resignation.

"Very well." He settled back down, "but if this changes-"

"You'll be sleeping outside the door."


	11. Chapter 11

Some time, well after dawn, I awoke alone, with Charles' half of the coverlets shoved well over onto my side of the bed, while his banyan was left, draped casually over the arm of his chair.

"Jaime, stop tipping the pitcher!" Bryleigh's voice rang clearly from downstairs.

"You can't see it!" Jaime rebuttled.

"I can _hear_ you, and Papa told you to pour two mugs of coffee! One for Mama, and one for Aunt Kezi!"

There was a muffled response, followed by another voice chiming in, "Don't waste the rest then, Jaime. That's imported, and you've already got a puddle to clean before Uncle gets back."

"He's out in the stables; do you think he'll _actually_ come back soon?"

"Fine, do what you want. It's not my concern…"

I smiled to myself. Braden was not nearly as cold shouldered as his father, but there were moments where he was undeniably William's son, and he was getting better and better at keeping the two younger children in line.

More muffled retorts and the quick shuffling of little feet up the stairs ended in a loud knock on the bedroom door.

"Mum!" Jaime called importantly.

"A moment, James, please."

"But it'll get cold!" He whined, disappointed.

"Leave it by the door then."

"But I want to give it to you…" he pressed.

"Then you must wait." I sat up and eased out of bed, slipping back into my discarded clothing, but my son was done waiting; he had set the drink down and was already out of sight when I opened the door.

"Jaime," I murmured, stooping to pick up the steaming coffee. The brew was rich and dark, no doubt from the general's personal stores.

"Mum!" Braden's voice interrupted my thoughts as one of the doors to the outside opened. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you, my dear. Have you finished your chores?"

"Almost..."

I turned away and retreated back into the bedroom, sipping carefully at the coffee as I settled into Charles' chair, vaguely aware of another opened door and the sound of booted footsteps making their way toward the others.

"James!..." Charles' voice followed a frantic scuffle and ended with a groan. "Have a care, will you, or you'll slide into the corner next time."

"I _didn't_ though-"

"Don't run in the kitchen!"

"You're no fun _–"_

I didn't hear the general respond, and went back to my drink, only briefly turning when the door opened and my husband stepped into the room, shutting the two of us soundly inside.

"Well, he hasn't broken any bones yet."

Charles snorted.

" _Yet_ …"

"He was only excited to see you." I pointed out.

"Remind me of that the next time he comes barreling at me." The general replied dryly. "Did he do his breakfast chore?"

"Did he deliver me the coffee _you_ treated me to? Yes, he did." I smiled, gesturing for Charles to come near.

"Good lad," my husband approached and squeezed my shoulder affectionately.

"He was very proud to do it, and I'm sorry to say that I made him wait, for I think it deflated his pride."

Charles frowned playfully.

"Dear Jaime."

"Oh yes, and he probably would have dressed up nicely if you'd have requested it."

"I will bear that in mind for next time."

I sniggered and shook my head.

"A clever trick that would be."

"Indeed…" Charles agreed before falling into thoughtful silence."Though he _does_ need some new dress shirts, and Bry could do with another pair of shoes…The trip is hardly more than an hour or two."

I frowned.

"It's _ghastly_." I answered in a flat tone _._ "I can't stand the stench, and you know Bryleigh gets fitful too."

"I do know." Charles echoed. "But it would allow Kezia to get out and about for a bit, and I'll not have her in London unattended." He added seriously.

"You really think her to be such a lamb?" I asked; Charles bristled, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes yes, I un _derstand_. But would you honestly want to go out there today? The roads will be terribly choked by the time we get there."

"You are right about that. Give me some time to work this out."


	12. Chapter 12

It was decided that afternoon, shortly after the midday meal, that we would all leave for London early the next morning. Charles aimed to finish any errands quickly so we might be able to return home by evening. Even so, Bryleigh was less than pleased, and did not shy from making her discontent known.

"It smells like rot! I'm staying home!" She snapped, pushing Jaime aside when he tried to poke her arm.

"You are going." I answered, turning to my son and gripped his shoulder "And James, none of that."

My son pouted and stepped away with a sullen glare.

"I am not!" Bryleigh raised her voice. "It smells like piss-"

"Bryleigh! To your room! Now…"

"No!"

My patience wore thin and I stepped forward, clasping my daughter firmly around her arm.

"No!" She yelled. "Let me go!"

"Then go straight to your room!" I replied sharply.

Bryleigh simmered but I released her, eying her as she took but one step forward before turning around to bolt past me.

"You!-"

"Bryleigh!" Charles appeared several steps behind me and caught our daughter in mid flight, hauling her up off of the ground and held her tightly as he carried her, struggling and crying, to her room.

Mouthing a quick word of thanks as the general passed by, I returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up after the meal.

"Mum!" Jaime greeted me with his arms submerged up to his elbows in a bucket of hot, soapy water.

"Not just playing with the bubbles are you?" I asked shortly.

"No," Jaime frowned. "I washed a plate.."

"Good." I answered, turning away to begin cleaning my share of the dishes.

"You're mean…" Jaime whispered.

I pursed my lips.

"Jaime-"

"You're always mean after Bryleigh gets in trouble." He interrupted. "I didn't do anything."

"I didn't intend to be mean," I swallowed. "I was too sharp with you. I'm sorry, Jaime."

"I washed a dish before you were here." He repeated emphatically, jabbing a soapy finger at the cleaned plate nearby.. "And I've got two more."

"You're doing wonderfully, my dear."

"I am?" Jaime smiled hopefully before adding, "I almost broke one."

"James!-"

"Not broken!" He repeated hastily. "Didn't even crack." My son gestured at the plate.. "Go look at it."

"I trust you," I glanced quickly at the plates, "I'll have a look later, but let's finish these first."

* * *

Evening pressed in quickly and with no further fanfare from either Bryleigh or Jaime. Braden had spent the last bits of daylight assisting Charles with hauling cords of firewood into the house before the two went back out to the stables to put blankets on the horses. Both returned with the darkness, yawning and stretching as Kezia and I met them at the door. Braden glanced up just enough to say good night to Kezia, who had opened the front door for them, before he hefted himself off to his room.

"Don't forget to change your clothes," she called after him. Braden only grunted in response before closing the bedroom door behind him.

Kezia shook head, smiling to herself before turning to my husband, saving him the trouble of acknowledgement, and said, "I trust he did his work."

"Yes." Charles gave a bleary, single-word response.

"Good night, Sir." She finished with a smirk.

Charles nodded politely and dismissed her.

"My dear," he turned to me, offering his arm.

"Are you sure I'm the one who needs escorting?" I shook my head, grinning to myself.

"If you would prefer otherwise…" He replied, allowing me to guide him up the stairs. "The children are asleep?"

"Jaime is," I replied, "I still have to check on Bryleigh, but she should be well on her way."

"I can wait for you-"

"No," I interrupted, as we paused outside our bedroom door. "I won't keep you."

"Very well," Charles nodded and I turned to go down the hall to Bryleigh's room, where I found her fast asleep, her brother's toy drummer clutched securely in her right hand.

Padding quietly to her bedside, I carefully loosened the toy from her hand and left it on a small stand next to her bed.

"Good night, my little dove." I kissed the side of her cheek and stood to leave, closing the door to a tiny crack before returning to my own sleeping quarters. Charles was already in bed, just pulling off his shirt before shifting under the coverlets.

"So tired already?" I asked, settling in next to him.

"You try keeping up with Braden." Charles half-attempted a playful retort. "Let him loose and he's got as much energy as his father… Albeit, put to better use."

"I suppose, too, not being in your thirties might have something to do with it." I smirked, kissing him lightly,to which he responded with sharp nip.

"Are you telling me I'm old?"

To this, I could not help but laugh.

"Older than I? _Certainly_. But that has always been; it never bothered me."

Charles nodded, silently pondering.

"Tavington was much closer to you in age. It definitely had me wondering where I might end up with you."

I looked at him, questioning, but could not answer, and Charles continued.

"He had age and energy, and that ridiculous amount of _twisted_ enigma about him…Everything was _effortless_ for him, and I _will_ admit that it frustrated me just how easily it worked in his favor, especially with _you_." He ended with a dry smile.

"I didn't choose him." I answered, finally finding my words.

"I know," the general replied simply, "I _know_ ; you could have, and you _did_ , if only for a hasty evening. The tension between you two was all but tangible. Even I could see you were evenly matched."

I flushed in shame, glad that Charles could not see me in the shadows.

"My dear-"

"It wouldn't have surprised me in the least, and I half expected it, especially when we learned you were pregnant within mere months of your night with _him_."

"Please…" I found myself pleading, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes; Charles gently cupped my chin and tilted my face up to look at him directly.

"I _love_ you. I wasn't going to leave you alone to such a fate."

"You didn't love me then," I countered quietly, still welled with emotion.

"I felt _something_ , and I wasn't going to disregard my own responsibilities. But to see you through the following months, especially the last few of your pregnancy, and then when our daughter was born... That was more commitment than simple responsibility, for either one of us. Things were starting to fall into order, and it didn't feel as if we were haphazardly matched. Our life, our _family_ , would be safe, and I was free to love you."

"Well," I sniffed, half-smiling, "For being so ready to tuck in for the evening, that was anything but a cloudy musing."

Charles grinned and the corners of his eyes wrinkled with warmth.

"I've had time to think about it. Not as much time to tell you, with Jaime and Bryleigh popping up around every corner throughout the day."

"Best get used to it," I laughed, wiping my eyes. "They're still young."

"As long as you have time and a place for me." He answered, gently kissing my forehead.

I replied with a light brush on his mouth, lingering until our noses nearly touched.

"Of course; I know you better now."


	13. Chapter 13

The trip to the Capitol began shortly after dawn, as Charles and Braden had to ready the carriage; it was decided that Ember would be used in the harness due to her mellowed temperament in comparison to Willow. Braden would ride separately, accompanying us on his mother's pony, Storm. Both Jaime and Bryleigh were still groggy from sleep when we set off, and put up no protests to riding in carriage. My husband, thankful for the sedate morning, started us off in easy silence, with only hoofbeats and an occasional blow from the horses to break the calm.

"Mama," Bryleigh yawned and buried further into my shoulder while she rested next to me, leaving the remaining half of the seat to Jaime, who has stretched leisurely across to rest. Meanwhile, Kezia sat on the opposite seat, holding a book, all but forgotten, as she stared quietly out the carriage window.

"Kezia?"

"He looks like his father when he rides," she commented.

"A size or so smaller, I would think," I replied.

Kezia smirked.

"And not nearly the menace to match." She chuckled.

"Do you miss him?" I asked when she fell silent.

Kezia bit her lip, taking her time to form an answer.

"No… Well, yes, but not enough or in a way that I would wish he was here. I couldn't have waited or tried any harder for William to keep wrenching so violently away. The idea was a sweet one, but reality would never had met it. Braden knows a little, but I'd rather not have that shadow cloud him."

"They are different from one another." I spoke.

"They are," Kezia agreed. "I must thank the general for looking after him; he has done very well."

"I don't think he'd have it any other way," I smiled. "He's a good help around the house."

"Oh look!" Kezia suddenly pointed out the window. "Snow…"

I groaned.

"God-willing, only a light flurry, or we'll be spending at least a night in London."

"You really don't like it, do you? London, I mean…" Kezia turned to me.

"It's hard to be fond of something that reeks of waste." I wrinkled my nose.

"Well at least it won't be humid and the smells won't carry as much."

"There's something fortunate," I replied airily."

A moment later, Charles stopped the carriage and made his way around to the door. Bryleigh was still asleep, but Jaime had awakened and was pointing out the window with excitement.

"Papa, can we go play?" He asked the moment his father peered inside.

"Not right now; Mary, do you have their warmer clothes?"

"I do; they're stowed under the seat."

Charles acknowledged my reply with a slight nod and turned to Kezia.

"Braden has his in his saddle pack."

"Very well. Is anyone hungry or thirsty?"

I shook my head, and Kezia politely declined.

"I want a candy!" Jaime shouted excitedly.

Charles put a finger to his mouth, ordering our son to silence.

"You are quite high-reaching, young master," he murmured, his lips turning upward into a teasing grin. Wait until we get to the city; then, perhaps so."

Jaime nodded, his eyes round with excitement.

* * *

By the time we arrived in London, the snowfall had progressed from wisps to a light flurry.

"Not just yet, James," I barely managed to haul Jaime back by his shirt-collar as we stepped out of the carriage, arriving at a private inn which Charles favored during his city visits.

"Mum!"

"You will put your jacket on first."

"I don't want to!" Jaime pouted stubbornly.

"Bryleigh has hers on, and I'll not see either one of you I'll from the cold," I replied sternly. "Go see your father and have him help you into your things."

Jaime made to argue but closed his mouth when Charles walked up behind him and bent down, resting a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Come, Jaime. Besides," he leaned closer and lowered his voice, "how can I take you to get sweets if you're not wearing your jacket, hm?"

Jaime smiled and Charles held his jacket open, and he stepped into it without another word.

"Mama," Bryleigh stepped from behind the carriage and reached searchingly for my hand."

"Right here, another step forward," I waited, feeling her fingers lock tightly with mine when she found her way.

"I think my scarf is loose," my daughter spoke up, tugging at my arm.

"It's all right; we are only going to find our rooms. Your father wants to unload our things before we step out."

"We aren't going near the river, are we?" She asked hopefully. "It smells like rot and piss-"

"Bryleigh-" I admonished, squeezing her hand while I glared at Charles' turned back. "Stay by the carriage while I help Kezia with our things. I'll come back for you in a minute or two."

"Well hurry; it's cold!"

"Of course, my little elf-" I shook my head and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "You stay right here."

"Yes, Mama."

"Good girl," I squeezed her shoulder before assisting Kezia with a couple of medium sized trunks.

"You needn't bother." Kezia whispered as we started inside the inn, which was freshly warm with a healthily stoked fire. "It's not your place."

"Kezia, I don't care-" I started but she cut in.

"They're staring at you," she nodded subtly to a couple of men seated in old chairs near the fire at the front of the inn.

I rolled my eyes, dashing any pretense, and spoke loudly enough for them to hear, "have you never seen a woman carry something before?"

"Not of such weight; and not from the wife of a general." One of the men replied boldly before adding, "Unless, of course, you're not his wife…"

"Well I am," I replied haughtily. "My husband, the general, is a gentleman, and has given me the right to govern my own actions as he sees reason for me to do so.. And I assure you, there's nothing particularly of interest to look at here. So, should we all be to our own personal matters?"

"Of course, milady," the man simpered. "As you wish."

I turned away and went back to Kezia's side.

"You do have a certain flair for trouble, don't you?" Kezia tried to hide a smile.

"He was insulting my character-" I answered quickly before giving in to a sheepish smile. "And… perhaps I do like to stir things a little."

"Only just." My friend laughed. "But we should be to our rooms."

"Indeed, and I've got an elf waiting for me to fetch her."


	14. Chapter 14

Less than an hour later, our rooms were settled into, and the snow had continued a steady fall. Both Jaime and Bryleigh wanted to go outside and get sweets, while Braden, having ridden through the cold all the way to the city, preferred to warm himself by the fire at the front of the inn.

"Stay _with_ your father, Jaime." I warned, looking pointedly at my son, who was attempting with all of his might to pull the general out of our room and down the hall toward the entrance to the inn.

Bryleigh, who was holding her father's hand with dutiful patience, opened her mouth and started, "Jaime-"

"And _you_ ," I caught her lightly on her shoulder, "Your father has the orders."

"I know-"

"Bryleigh…"

"Yes, Mama."

"Both of you," I sighed, meeting Charles' gaze for a moment before continuing, "Be kind to one another, and if you can't do that, at least be tolerant enough so no one ends up in a mood, least of all-"

"Papa." Bryleigh finished. "You say it _every_ time."

"Then I expect it shouldn't be a concern." I answered sternly; Charles squeezed Bryleigh's hand in warning.

" _Fine_." Bryleigh mumbled, stiffening. Charles' expression darkened but I gestured for him to let her disobedience slide once so that they could leave with enough time not to rush.

" _That_ little lady is going to run her father out of his mind," Kezia spoke, meeting me in the hall as we watched Bryleigh leave with her brother and father.

I shook my head and crossed my arms.

"If she hasn't already... though it might be a great help to her later."

" _You_ would know." Kezia countered with a sly grin.

"And you _wouldn't_?"

"It's caused me more trouble than respite," she answered.

"I could disagree with you-"

"Don't," Kezia laughed. "We'd be here for hours."

"We might be anyway, with how Jaime and Bryleigh were pulling to go."

* * *

An hour later, Charles, Jaime and Bryleigh returned; Jaime waltzed ahead of the other two, licking chocolate off of his fingers, while Charles followed behind, carrying Bryleigh, who was fast asleep against his shoulder.

"Mum!" Jaime called excitedly, dashing forward.

"Jaime!-"

My son collided with me, knocking me back a step before I grabbed him around and held him still.

"Slow down, and _wipe your hands and mouth_." I said breathlessly.

"Sorry," Jaime's cheeks flushed, despite his playful grin.

"Go on, then," I pulled a cloth from one of my petticoat pockets and pushed it into his hands before turning to greet the general.

"I thought she'd be the one to wear _you_ out." I spoke, kissing his cheek.

"She was awake long enough to get her chocolate," Charles replied, carefully pulling our daughter off of him and handing her to me. Bryleigh awoke momentarily, but settled against me.

"Did you get shirts for Jaime?"

"I did; they should be completed in a week or two. And I can pick up Bryleigh's shoes then as well."

"Indeed." I glanced past my husband toward one of the windows at the front of the inn and frowned.

"My apologies," Charles half-grinned sympathetically. "But we will leave early in the morning if the weather abates."

"General, sir-"

Charles turned to meet a young man, with sandy colored hair, wearing tattered clothes and carrying a single rucksack that looked hardly better for wear.

"Yes, come in," my husband replied before turning back to me. "My dear, this is Thomas Miller..."

"You found someone that quickly?" I murmured, appraising the stranger.

"There was a small corner article in the paper he posted, looking for work." Charles explained. "I read it a couple of days ago and found he was still looking for a position."

"Sir," I called, gesturing for the young man to come forward.

"Forgive me," Charles returned to the man, "My wife, Mary."

"Milady," Thomas inclined his head politely.

"Mister Miller." I returned, shifting as Bryleigh stirred, burying further into my neck. "Is this all you have?" I eyed his pack.

Thomas flushed in embarrassment and Charles looked at me in subtle warning.

"Well, no matter; my husband has at least a few shirts he can spare for you. You're here to serve, not to work for naught."

"Thank you, milady," the young man sighed in relief and Charles' tense stance relaxed immediately.

"Have you a place to stay?"

"I... well, I was keeping in with my horse, ma'am. Just down the road."

"Perhaps you would rather stay here until we leave tomorrow." Charles offered.

"Oh no," Thomas answered hurriedly. "I mean, I can't just leave him. Knacker's been looking him up a bit too well..."

My husband frowned and Thomas sagged further.

"Haven't been able to afford enough feed. I'm not hurting him on purpose-" he swallowed and went silent.

"We'll have him taken care of," I found my words first and Charles merely nodded, looking over at Kezia, who was starting down the hall toward us.

"Mary-" she quieted and stopped several feet from us, "General..."

"Tomas Miller was looking for work. I believe he will be of good use for the more physical outdoor work at home," Charles answered her unspoken question with a light tone.

"Of course," Kezia answered slowly.

"Milady," Thomas nodded again.

"Kezia, please," she interrupted with an unreadable expression. "Have you a room?"

"No, I haven't-"

"He will be sharing quarters with me," Charles announced. "I trust my wife and children can handle a night with you and Braden."

"Of course," Kezia answered.

"General, I could not-"

"Mister Miller, you need a proper bath and that certainly won't be found in the stables." My husband cut him off with a pointed look.

"Yes sir," Thomas bowed his head. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Take your things down the hall; our lodgings are the last room on the right."


	15. Chapter 15

"That was quickly decided," I murmured when the young man was out of earshot.

"You _know_ we could do well with another," Charles answered, closing any protest.

"I do," I agreed. "But with him?"

"Does he upset you?" My husband asked, raising his brow in question.

"Apart from smelling of week-old manure, no." I sniggered.

"And that can be easily dealt with," Charles couldn't hide his teasing smirk.

"But where will he sleep?" I wondered. "There is no more room downstairs."

"I will find something."

Evening fell quickly with the shortened days, and London herself was peacefully still in the growing darkness. Braden, Jaime and Bryleigh had all retired to an early sleep, leaving Kezia and I out in the main area of the inn while Charles assisted Tomas Miller with his belongings.

"Oh my..." I shook myself out of my stupor, nearly falling asleep where I sat.

"You too?" Kezia asked.

"What?" I yawned blearily.

"I think the general and Mister Miller can find their own way back to their room; I'm going to bed." she announced.

"Not a bad idea..."

I got up and followed her to our shared lodging, where I found Jaime sitting up in the cot he and his sister were sharing.

"Aren't you to bed, Jaime?" I asked.

"I was, but Bry is too warm." He complained.

I frowned and walked over to the side of the cot.

"Bryleigh?" I murmured, gently touching her forehead. My daughter awoke, eyes fluttering and blank.

"Mama?" she mouthed.

"Shhhh..." I soothed before turning back to Jaime.

"Jaime, take Braden and wait for your father near the front of the inn."

"What's going on?" Braden asked, stirred awake when his mother slipped into bed next to him.

"Bryleigh is ill. I need you and Jaime to wait for your uncle."

"Bry-"

"Go on," Kezia nudged her son while she herself got out of bed. "Take Jaime and bring the general back here as soon as he returns."

"All right..." Braden stretched sleepily but did as he was told and he and Jaime sauntered out of the room.

"Kezia, I need cloths." I turned, but my friend was already ahead of me, out of the room and in the hall to call for rags and water.

"Mama, it's too warm..." My daughter pushed feverishly at her blankets.

"I know... We'll cool you down soon, but you have to keep these on." I frowned.

"No..." Bryleigh's voice dissipated into a fit of coughs.

"My dear..." I pulled her hands from the blankets and tuck them back around her before glancing over at the empty doorway. "Charles, hurry..."

"Mama, no..."

* * *

Thirty minutes ebbed by before Charles returned, with the boys and Thomas Miller breathlessly trying to keep up.

"Bryleigh, my dear," he strode over to the cot and gently touched our daughter's cheek.

I bit my lip as Bryleigh awakened momentarily, straining to push her father away before she turned over on her side, mewing.

"When did this start?" Charles turned his attention to me, trained militant distance clouding any glint of panic in his eyes.

"I don't know." I answered hollowly. "It must have been this evening. Jaime was complaining that she was too warm and he couldn't sleep."

"He can't stay here; nor should _you_."

"Charles-"

The general halted me with a glare but I wasn't ready to submit.

"She is _my_ daughter." I countered tersely.

"And _he_ is _your_ son." My husband met me with equal force, glancing between Jaime and I. "I will not have either of you ill. My decision stands."

"Mum..." Jaime cut in nervously, clearly upset by the growing tension.

"General-"

"Milady," Charles laid a firm hand on my forearm. "Please, _go._ You are needed elsewhere."


	16. Chapter 16

"As you wish," I answered thinly, glaring in disagreement.

"Thomas," Charles instructed, turning his attention from me, "You will remain _here_."

"Charles!" My composure gave way to sudden anger and Thomas too, looked taken aback.

"I will _not_ say it again, _Mary_ ," the general had lowered and softened his tone, but his gaze remained ever-cold as he lifted his right hand for silence.

Smoldering, with no rebuttal to counter, I put a hand on Jaime's shoulder and guided him out of the room, stopping only when we were with Kezia and Braden, and the door was locked behind us.

"Mum, why is Papa so mean?" Jaime had been bursting to ask the question since we had left Bryleigh and Charles in quarantine.

"He's not mean, Jaime-" I swallowed down my own angry retorts.

"But he's not being _nice_." My son looked at me in confusion. "Why?"

"Because he's upset."

"Why?"

" _Because_ , Jaime!" I raised my voice in exasperation.

Jaime's expression darkened and Kezia called him over to her side, casting a wary eye at me.

"You're mean too!" My son shouted back. "Everyone is _so_ mean!"

"James..." Kezia warned. "Over here, will you?"

Jaime made a face and stood defiantly against her.

"Jaime," she tried again. "Come here and give your mother some time. I'm sure she'll tell you more when she can."

"I don't want to go to bed," James murmured stubbornly.

"Then stay awake, but please, give your mother some room."

Still deliberating, Jaime chewed his lip furiously until he relented and dragged himself over to Kezia and Braden.

"Thank you," I murmured.

Kezia nodded quietly and waited until Jaime was comfortably asleep before speaking again.

"He doesn't understand."

"I _know_ that!" I gritted harshly.

My friend returned my outburst with tight glare but kept her tone soft and even.

"She's going to be all right-"

"I cannot confirm such a thing, as I'm _not_ in the room with her…" I clenched my fists.

"The General will let you know otherwise; Mary…"

"I'll wait." I replied slowly, sinking down onto the empty bed across from Kezia and the boys.

* * *

Perhaps fortunately, Charles outstayed my ability to keep awake and I was deep in sleep when he barely managed to nudge me into a state of consciousness.

"Her fever has not broken, but perhaps soon," my husband murmured, caressing the side of my face before I turned away..

"I should have stayed with her."

" _No_ ," Charles' voice turned firm and resolute. "We have Jaime, and I don't want either one of you ill."

"So you leave her with a stranger," my voice shook.

"I leave her with someone who will suffer less if illness befalls them." My husband replied.

"You don't even know him!" I raised my voice; Charles grabbed me fast around the shoulders and I clawed at his arms in surprise when he hardened his grip.

"Mary, look at me," his voice rose to match mine, " _look at me_!"

With stubborn refusal, I turned my cheek and Charles' final strings of composure unwound.

"Dammit, your petulance can _wait_!" He yelled, causing both Jaime and Kezia to jump wide awake.

"General," Kezia cut through the tension with an uneasy voice.

Charles barely spared her a glance before returning his attention to me.

"I will not let anything happen to our daughter; you _must_ trust me."

"Have I a choice?" I bit back; my husband glared, simmering with barely constrained frustration and anger.

"I will call for you later."

Leaving my side without another word, he turned away and started for the door.

"Papa?" Jaime had squirmed out of Kezia's grasp and was partly off of the bed, staring urgently at his father.

Charles paused mid-step and stilled him with dismissive flick of his hand.

"Not now."


	17. Chapter 17

"Dammit, Charles!" I yelled as soon as the general had left the room, effectively stirring Braden to alertness while Jaime shrank back toward Kezia's protective embrace.

"Mary!" My friend hissed, glaring. "At least for the children..."

I shook my head, clenching my fists.

"I'm leaving."

"Not to that room-"

"I'm going _out_!" I interrupted coarsely. "Either way, I'm not staying _here..."_

"Mary," Kezia urged, "Please, don't go in there. You _must_ trust the general. Really, what cause has he to let you down?"

"He hasn't," I swallowed. "But I can't stay in this room waiting."

"Mum," Jaime cut in, looking at me with wary eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jaime. It is nothing against you," I tried relax my voice. "I just need to get out for some air."

"Can I come, too?"

"No," I shook my head; my son made a face and I recovered, "You need to sleep."

Satisfied but not pleased with my answer, Jaime settled back down before asking, "Will you be better tomorrow?"

"I shall try my best."

"Good; I don't like it when you're mean." He frowned.

Turning away, I walked out of the room, catching the door behind me before it could slam, and paused just outside of Bryleigh's room, and, for a moment, impulse won over reason as I rested my hand lightly on the doorknob. Surely a brief check-in would do no harm.

"Let him have his place," I pulled my hand away and made my way to the front of the inn, where the fire was low but still burning.

"Milday, shall I stoke the fire for you?" The innkeeper met me in the front room just as I was settling into a worn but comfortable chair.

"Please," I waved my hand and dismissed him, staring hollowly into the fading embers. The air was still but the tension held, ebbing at my energy until I closed my eyes and rested lightly while the innkeeper returned with a poker.

"It's going to be a freeze tonight, ma'am." He murmured, keeping his face turned toward the fire. "Perhaps a blanket?"

"The fire is enough," I answered.

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Very well; good night."

The room fell back into silence; I was too lost between fatigue and a running stream of ever-blurring thoughts to hear the flames in the hearth. Somewhere, a door opened and closed in the din.

* * *

"Bry-" I opened my eyes to a dead fire, and shivered with the biting cold, seeping in through a crack in one of the front windows; Bryleigh was no where to be seen but another had entered the room, booted steps echoing on the old floorboards.

"My god..." My mouth went dry with fear.

"Mary?"

"Charles," I breathed in relief.

"Kezia informed me that you had left the room."

"I couldn't stay," I answered, looking at him sheepishly as he knelt before me.

"Are you all right?" Charles' eyes flashed with concern.

"I am. And Bryleigh?"

"She's going to be fine," my husband took my hands in his. "Her fever just broke." He answered with a tiny smile.

"Charles," I squeezed his hands gratefully.

"I almost expected you to come in," he quipped.

"I almost _did_ ," I replied with a small laugh. "But you were fine on your own."

"Thank you, my dear," the general leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

"May I?"

"Yes," He stood and helped me out of the chair. "She worked through it just perfectly. Nothing like our last scare with her."

"My dear," I paused, staring directly at him, "I'm sorry."

The general stared back in confusion, and I continued, "I've been at ends all evening, not just with you but with Jaime and Kezia, too. It was unnecessary."

Charles snorted and shook his head.

"Unnecessary, but not unfounded." He chuckled. "You _know_ I wouldn't let anything happen to Bryleigh..."

"I do," I swallowed. "I just... _hate_ London."

My husband laughed aloud and I swatted at his arm.

"The whole place is awake now!" I hissed between a poorly restrained grin.

"The walls are thin as it is; I doubt I'm doing much harm," he quipped. "In any case, I know that someone is awake and would like very much to be with her mother."


	18. Chapter 18

Not two hours after settling in for rest myself, I awoke to someone prodding me hard in the side.

"Mum…Mum!"

"Jaime— Ouch!" I sat up and rubbed between my ribs, glaring reproachfully at my son.

"James—"

"Papa wants to leave!" He declared importantly, straightening his posture.

"How thoughtful…" I gritted. "Mmmm-no."

"Mum!"

" _Go away_ ," I grumpily settled back down and turned over on the cot.

"MUM!"

"James…" I vaguely registered Kezia's voice. "I'll get her up."

"But now." Jaime whined.

"I will, but can you help Braden with the trunks in the meantime."

"Okay…" Jaime let out a recanting sigh and got up from my bedside.

"We'll meet you shortly," Kezia reassured him.

"Bullocks," I murmured, burrowing even further under the covers. "Just because he can get up every day at daybreak..."

"I think you can well afford another twenty minutes," Kezia laughed quietly. "Everything is 'now', in Jaime's world; though he probably does want to get Bryleigh out of London and back home."

I groaned in response.

"Piss it."

* * *

An hour later, we had departed London and had begun the trip home. Charles gave control of the carriage to the new hire, Thomas Miller, and rode inside the coach, while Braden again, elected to ride outside, dutifully leading Mister Miller's bone-thin gelding at a plodding pace, taking care not to overtire the animal. Snow had continued to fall through the night and into the morning, though in lighter drifts; yet, it was enough to keep a cautious pace, and we found ourselves home before the early dusk could set in.. Bryleigh had fallen fast asleep against Charles' chest while James had drifted off, limbs awry, across my lap, with his left foot jammed into his father's side.

"Jaime," I shook my son's shoulder. "Up you get; we're home."

"No..." My son buried his face in my skirts just as Thomas had stopped the carriage just outside the front of the house while Braden had broken off to take Storm and the gelding to the barn for grooming, fresh food and a night of relaxation.

"James... come now." I shook him harder and he turned to me, screwing up his face in dislike.

" _No_."

"Well you're not going to sleep here all night. We're home."

"Come on, Jaime," Charles encouraged, gathering Bryleigh in his arms to carry into the house.

"But I'm fine here."

"Ask your mother, then, if she wants to sit here all evening with you." Charles answered smartly. "If you can convince her, I'll not protest it."

Jaime scowled and looked up at me with a begrudging expression.

"Mum?"

"Not tonight, and not when it's so cold, James." I answered.

"We have blankets!" He cried in earnest.

"Not tonight."

" _When_?!"

" _Not tonight_ ," I repeated, sparing a glance at my husband, who had moved to the carriage door with Bryleigh clutched tightly to him.

"Mum!"

"It's ghastly outside, and you don't need to be sick as well." I frowned.

"Just because Bry gets it doesn't mean I'll be ill too!"

"That is my answer, Jaime. Out and to the house, now."

James slid off my lap with a puckered grimace, looking at me with reproachful ire.

"Berk-"

" _James Robert!_ Get! _Now_!" I raised my voice and Charles, just outside the carriage with our daughter, paused mid-step.

"No!" Jaime yelled back, clenching his fists, but I had reached my last string of patience, and hauled him up quickly, setting him over my shoulder and held him tightly as I stepped down from the carriage.

"Milady?" Thomas Miller looked over his shoulder from the front, still clasping Willow's reins.

"I've got him, Thomas, thank you. But please, bring the trunks." I requested, swatting Jaime's hand away from my face. "Have Braden take Willow in when you're finished."

"Yes Ma'am." Thomas inclined his head politely before setting the break on the coach and I hurried into the house as quickly as Jaime's relentless squirming and crying would allow.

"Put me _down_!" Jaime wailed as I carried him through the door and up the stairs to his room, where I wrenched open the door and set him down soundly on his bed.

"Get dressed for bed; I will be back in five minutes and you had better be tucked in." I spoke thinly.

"NO!" Jaime screeched in a voice so shrill that I turned and covered my ears.

"Fine!" I hollered through his screams and stalked out of the room, colliding with Charles halfway down the hall to the master bedchamber.

"Easy-" he reached out and grabbed my arms to steady me.

"Dammit!" I snapped.

"Mary!" The general held me firmly and looked down with a concerned expression.

"That one is _yours_!" I hissed, jabbing a finger toward Jaime's bedroom door.

Charles nodded mutely and gestured for me to retire while he finished with our son.

"Damn…" I stride into the room, unconsciously slamming the door behind me.

"Mary?"

"Just—!"

Kezia had opened the door and was standing in the entryway with her arms crossed in front of her.

"I'll get some stones and water."

"No, you don't need to. We just got home—"

"I will, if for only everyone else's sake." She insisted. "The new hire doesn't need to see you in such a knot so soon."

"Thank you, Kezia." I answered shortly.

"Milady," Kezia left the room, her skirts rustling with her steps, and I settled into my husband's chair to begin working the pins from my hair just before the bedroom door opened and closed once again.

"My dear?" Charles stood near the door, gauging the environment and my mood.

"Well that went quickly," I responded dryly.

The general let out a sigh and crossed the room to where I sat.

"Mary, what is wrong?" He asked, moving to assist me with my pins.

"I can do it _on my own_!" I bit in a sharp voice.

"Very well," Charles held up his hands, but wasn't going to recant without a glare and I looked away to avoid the admonition.

"Let me be," I requested.

Charles' features softened ever so slightly.

"As you wish."

The water was heated and ready shortly after I had removed the last of my clothes and slipped into my husband's evening robe to wait. Charles had returned to our room for the evening and was readying for bed when Kezia fetched me for the bath; it was just as I preferred: hot and steaming, and I quickly thanked my friend before settling in.

"What is-" I let my musing fall in silence and continued in mental reflection of the recent events and my current state. Was I really so sour? Jaime was one thing, but cutting short with both my husband and dear friend for almost nothing to call on it was another matter. But perhaps I was too critical. In truth, London had left me spent of energy and amenities of a civil attitude; there was nothing further to it. I would apologize later, to the general and Kezia, after I had washed away the city grime, and when everyone was awake and approachable.


	19. Chapter 19

Cleaning the invisible layer of city haze off of me took only minutes, but the water was still steaming and I was reluctant to return so early and waste a full and fresh bath, so I rested lightly until the water had cooled and crept back to the master chamber. Charles was already asleep halfway on his side, with one arm tucked up to his chest and the other at straight down beside him..

"Good," I muttered in relief before I slipped into the bed next to him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, and burrowed up against his back.

"Love," my husband awoke with a shiver. "Dry off next time..."

"Sorry," I mumbled, coyly snaking my left arm around his chest.

Charles started and pried my hand off of him.

"I'm not going to get any warmer if you leave me alone on my half." I teased.

The general let out a groan and rolled over to face me.

"You're a problem, you know..." He held out his arm and I curled up again, flush against him.

"I know... I'm sorry for how I've been today." I admitted, looking up at him, studying his features. Charles still managed a humorous air despite looking a little worse for wear from lack of rest.

"It has been a bit of a chaos; I can't entirely blame you. But really, your _pins_?" The general frowned.

"Jaime got my last nerve, but I'm sorry." I answered, growing warm with embarrassment. "It was out of order for me."

Charles shrugged and pulled the coverlets tighter around us.

"I think we should sleep this one off."

* * *

The following morning began late for me, around half past nine. Charles had already been up and dressed, and sat, one ankle resting on his other knee, quietly perusing the newsprint. Half-clouded with sleep, I attempted a partially-mangled greeting, stretching my arms out to my sides until the tension reached to the muscles in my back.

"Moorr …"

The rest was garbled in a yawn and my husband looked up at me with a snicker.

"Good morning," he replied with a tone of playful jest.

I snorted.

"Why do _you_ always get to look presentable in the morning?" I squinted at him, turning my face away from the light coming in from the window.

"I happen to _like_ mornings," Charles answered lightly, setting the paper aside.

"Soldiers," I muttered to myself before asking, "And what of Bryleigh and Jaime? I haven't heard them downstairs."

"Jaime is out helping Braden and Thomas with the horses; Bryleigh was still asleep last I looked, and I was going to let her be, just in case she still needed some time to convalesce."

"And Kezia?"

"I believe she's out in the barn as well, just to make sure things go smoothly with Mister Miller."

"Poor lad," I smirked, and Charles joined in with a soft laugh, gesturing for me to come closer.

"So," he continued, pulling me into his lap, "we have some time to ourselves."

"Hmm…" I indulged in an inviting kiss, but nipped my husband's lip before he could push further. "I shouldn't leave Kezia on her own; it wouldn't be fair."

"I think she's perfectly capable," Charles answered, still maintaining a playful tone.

"Of course she is, but I don't want to be asleep later than Jaime; it looks bad."

My husband let out a snort of laughter and shook his head.

"You're fine sleeping in later than I am, but will stake your reputation on James?"

"Charles, the horses sleep later than you do." I rolled my eyes and punched him lightly on the arm. "I'm leaving."

The general pretended a pout when I left him to dress.

"Out in the cold?" He asked as I shed the last of my nightclothes.

"I'm taking _your_ long-coat."

"And that leaves me with what?" He asked, straightening in the chair.

"I'm sure you can use one of mine," I couldn't keep back a wicked grin.

"Yours wont even make it around my shoulders."

"Pity," I tisked, pulling a clean set of skirts and an undershirt from my dresser to pull on before I finished the under layers with my corset.

"Quite," Charles had walked lazily up behind me, reaching over my shoulder for the corset to fit and lace.

"Not too constricting." I instructed automatically before hastily adding, "You _know_ that…"

"Yes, And you still advise me," Charles squeezed my side affectionately with one hand while fishing in the top drawer of my dresser with the other, pulling out some dark blue lacing.

"How did you know those were there?" I turned abruptly and collided, face-first, with his chest."

"I put them there," he answered lightly, almost hiding the mischievous twitch in his feigned nonchalance.

"It's too fine and won't last for more than a few lacings."

Charles snorted.

"Then I suppose we'll just get you another one."

"Charles, I don't—"

"I like the way it looks on you…" he whispered in my ear barely touching the side of my neck with his lips before he pulled away. "But of course, you must go," His expression was once more orderly. "I don't mind waiting."

I paused, turning to meet his gaze.

"You'll wait all day?" I murmured.

"All day," he replied.

" _All day…"_ I repeated contemplatively, indulging in a playful kiss before leaving him with a teasing nip. "I might still refuse."

* * *

I reached the stables, ever more grateful that I had taken the general's longcoat; the snow was falling once more and the air was so chill that it nipped at my ears and stung painfully with each breath.

"Mum!" Jaime was first to greet me, racing across the aisle with bits of hay poking out of his hair.

"James," I smirked playfully and held up my hand.

"Oh," Jaime caught himself mid-stride and slowed to a walk, "sorry… good morning." He looked up at me sheepishly.

"Good morning," I answered, stooping to gather him into a hug.

"Where's Bry?" Jamie asked, pushing at my hands when I tried to pick the hay out of his hair. "And that's _not_ your coat..•

"It's your father's, And he's looking after your sister; she's still asleep. Have you been helping out?" I asked, taking his hand, and we started back toward the end of the stables, where Braden and Thomas were feeding and grooming Ember and Storm. My husband's mare stood impatiently in her stall, stomping at the floor.

"Willow!" I called sharply to the mare, and she begrudgingly settled just as Thomas Miller peeked out from Storm's stall. The Indian pony had been groomed to a shine and the knots picked out of his mane and tail.

"I believe, ma'am, that's a first in several minutes for her." Thomas addressed me with a sideways glance at Willow.

"She has her favorites," I answered. "And _he_ is still inside."

Thomas nodded politely and turned to adress Kezia, who had just come inside from behind the back end of the stables with Braden tagging close behind, arms wrapped around a cord of firewood.

"He's all cleaned up, Miss." the young man tugged lightly at the pony's halter, turning his head so Kezia could assess the work.

Kezia gave the gelding a quick glance and answered with a tiny nod and "Well done, sir. Thank you".

"Be needin' him saddled?" Thomas asked.

"Not yet, and I can saddle him when the time comes." Kezia waived him off. "It looks like your horse made it through the night…"

The young man smiled gratefully and turned to look in the direction of his gelding, hidden from view in a stall across from Ember.

"Ah Jack… kind as a lamb 'n he'll be quite handsome once he has somethin' on his bones. Dunno what I'd do if'n he didn't make it."

Kezia's expression softened and I too, gave a small grin. Clearly, the man cared for the horse and indeed, it looked to be one of his few and _finer_ possessions.

"I'll make sure that my son rations his feed until he can eat regularly." Kezia commented.

"He needn't bother; I can do it-"

"Unless the general or his wife calls you for a task…" my friend glanced pointedly in my direction, and Thomas followed her gaze.

"Ma'am…"

"Do as you wish for now and perhaps have Kezia show you around the chores.. I still have to discuss your sleeping arrangement with my husband."

"I don't mind being here in the barn," Thomas spoke before hastily adding, "Easier to make sure Jack's all right."

I paused, considering his reasoning, and then answered, "Perhaps that can be allowed, but it does get bitterly cold at night. You'll need more than a wool blanket."

"I'd be much obliged, Ma'am."

"I'll see what the general says about the matter."

"I want to come!" Jaime spoke up, tugging at the back of my skirts. "It's cold in here…"

"Make sure Braden doesn't need help with the firewood first," I answered. "If he doesn't, you can come, but you _are_ getting that hay out of your hair."

James grimaced and ducked down, pasting his hands to the top of his head.

"Mum…" he whined.

" _James_ …" I mimicked back.

"Fine…" Jaime concluded reluctantly, and I grinned.

"Good lad."

* * *

"How are things?" Charles greeted Jaime and I at the door, with Bryleigh fast asleep against his shoulder.

"I believe Thomas will be just fine." I answered, pulling my son back as he tried to dart out toward the stairs. "Kezia didn't say anything about him one way or the other."

"I didn't think she would."

"And Bry?" I leaned closer and gently touched my daughter's shoulder.

"Apart from getting up to eat, she's just been sleeping." Charles answered, frowning at my concerned expression. "Mary, she'll be back to herself tomorrow; she just needs to rest another day." He reassured.

"Mum!" Jaime piped up, cutting the tension.

"All right, up to your room and I'll be there shortly," I answered in a hurried voice.

"No you won't." James answered, crossing his arms.

"Give me _two_ minutes, Jaime, I promise." I bent down until I was level with him.

My son scowled, contemplating my answer.

"Better _be_ two minutes-"

"Get on upstairs, then."

With a huffy snort, James did as he was told, casting me a final distrusting look at the top of the stairs before disappearing from sight.

"Little devil," I muttered, turning my attention back to my husband. "I trust you, Charles."

"My dear," the general nodded appreciatively. "And I trust you'll keep your word with James…"

"Every last bit of it," I answered with exasperation, "And god willing, with the desired results."


	20. Chapter 20

By early evening, Charles and I, and Kezia, had decided that it would be wisest to have Thomas sleep downstairs in Braden's old room, while he shared quarters with James. Mister Miller politely contested the decision but the general was not keen on having him freeze outside, and closed any further discussion on the matter. In the meantime, Bryleigh had been awake, though tired, for several hours, and was in need of a bath.

"Mama?"

"Yes, Bry?" I asked, kneeling beside the tub as I poured water over Bryleigh's head, barely soaking her curly tresses; like mine, they were thick, and it took several full pitchers to wet them through.

"I want to wear my hair in a braid tomorrow." She answered matter-of-factly.

"You know how to braid."

"But I want a _fancy_ one, like the ones you do for something important, and they take a whole hour to finish. Only _you_ know how to do those."

"We'll see in the morning; if there's time, I will." I took her hand and pressed it to my lips, smiling.

Stepping back, I grabbed a towel from a nearby stool and held it out for Bryleigh, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

"Mind your step… there we are," I wrapped her tightly around and held her to me, squeezing her sides playfully, and she giggled.

"Mama!" She laughed. "Stop, or I'll laugh too hard."

"Silly," I kissed the top of her head and loosened the towel so she could grasp the ends. "Get your dress, it's hanging on the-"

"Peg, two steps in, on the right side of the doorway."

"Good girl," I shook my head and grinned.

Bryleigh turned and went to get the gown, leaving droplets of water in her wake.

"It's sticking," she commented; the dress has clung to sides, halfway down.

"Dry off some more," I chuckled, moving to assist her with her towel, and dabbed at her back and belly. "There, no more sticking."

"Thank _goodness_!" Bryleigh declared, and I let out a snort, covering my laugh with my hand.

"All right, use the chamber pot before bed, and then _to_ _bed_. No playing tonight if you're to continue to get better."

My daughter's light mood changed, and she asked, "Will you read to me?"

"Not tonight," I frowned.

"Then sing?" She asked hopefully. "Sing the song that Papa sang to you…Please, Mama?"

"Now where did you hear that?" I asked "I never sang that to you."

"Papa did," Bryleigh answered in an indifferent voice.

"All right," I recanted. "But then to bed with you."

"Promise." Bryleigh reached up and gave my hand an eager squeeze.

"Off you get; I'll see you in a minute." I encouraged, following her out the door before I went to briefly check on Jaime and Braden.

"Jaime, _snuff it_!"

I set foot in the room to find Braden sitting up in bed, arms crossed, scowling at my son.

"I don't want to go to bed," James answered stubbornly. "It's not even _time_ yet."

"As if ten minutes will make any difference; I have to be up early, so _snuff it_!"

"You snuff it!" Jaime hurled back.

"James!" My voice caught Jaime by surprise and his ears reddened.

"Snuff it for tonight, yes?"

"It's _not_ bed time!" My son insisted.

"You don't have to sleep, but you _do_ have to quiet down and douse the candle."

"Mum!"

" _James-"_

Jaime grumbled sulkily and grabbed the candle snuffer on his nightstand, set it over the flame and cast the room into darkness.

"Thank you, Jaime."

There was only a grunted response, and I left, closing the door behind me, to return to Bryleigh.

"Mama?" Bryleigh asked when I opened her door. She was already well under the covers with just her head poking out.

"Yes; I'm sorry, the boys were having a small disagreement." I answered, settling down next to her on the bedside. "It is resolves for now, I think."

"Will I have to share my room too?" Bryleigh asked.

"No," I shook my head and grinned. "You get to keep your own."

" _Good_." Bryleigh answered, satisfied. "I don't like people touching my things."

"I believe we know that _very_ well." I nuzzled my daughter teasingly.

"No one knows how to put things away…" Bryleigh continued. "I will have to do it all by myself."

"But everything is put away for now, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Then ," I moved to lie next to her, on top of the coverlets, "One song, and to bed."

Bryleigh moved closer, snuggling tightly against my front, burying her face in my shoulder. I ran my fingers through her hair, lightly kissing the top of her head as I untangled a few locks of hair that had snarled after the bath.

"Hush a-by, don't you cry, go to sleep, my little baby… When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little ponies…"

Bryleigh's head dropped further into my shoulder .

"…Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, running in the night…When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little ponies…"

My daughter was sound asleep before I had reached the end of the lullaby. Careful not to stir her awake, I slowly moved away from her side and got off of the bed before planting a soft kiss on the side of her cheek.

"Good night, my dear."

Stepping out into the hallway, I gave Jaime's room a quick glance, opening the door barely two finger-width, and sighed with relief when it didn't creak. James was fast asleep, face-first into his pillow, while Braden slept curled up on his left side.

"Good night, you two." I mouthed, and closed the door, free to retire to my own bed.

* * *

Charles sat in his chair, polishing the buttons on one of his uniform jackets, the light of two candles catching the red on one of the sleeves.

"Are you actually going to wear it?" I asked, beginning to loosen the laces and buttons of my dress.

"No," my husband answered, looking up at me with a small grin. "I had the time, and seeing them tarnished every morning I pulled a jacket from the armoire was starting to nag at my particularities for appearance.

I snorted, reaching the layers of petticoats and slowly eased out of them.

"Children to bed?" He asked, setting his work aside.

"The boys took some convincing, but they're both out cold. Bryleigh fell asleep when I sang her _your_ lullaby."

"I do like that one," Charles replied with a playful air. "It suited _you_ well enough."

"I suppose so," I answered, removing the last of my petticoats, leaving my shift and corset.

My husband grew quiet, resting his right ankle on his left knee, and watched, unblinking and intent.

I barely met his stare before turning around with a smirk, and slowly worked at the blue laces behind my back, drawing out each slide of the laces out of the eyelets, laughing quietly when I heard the general inhale. Before I reached the end, I returned my attention to Charles, who had regained his composure and sat, still staring, with an unreadable look upon his face.

"General…" I kept my tone light and unassuming.

Charles could only nod his assent and rose to stand behind me. I could hear the steady quickening of his breath upon the back of my neck, encouraging my own excitement.

Taking his time, the general unlaced the last of the eyelets; the only sound other than our quickened breaths was the hum of silk through the final few holes.

A sharp exhale escaped me as Charles eased the corset down onto the floor before resting his hands on my shoulders, breathing lightly behind my left ear.

"You are _beautiful_ …" he whispered, brushing his lips down the back of my neck.

I closed my eyes and slipped in his familiar rhythm and mood, vaguely aware that he had untied the back of my shift.

"Love," I suppressed a whimper of surprise; charles was grazing a line down the middle of my upper back with his fingertip, following it with brief, warm kisses before he returned to lingering near the side of my neck.

He took his time, inching my shift over and off of my shoulders, keeping me drawn closely to him, until he had worked the garment over my breasts. I wanted to turn to him but he kept me still with a firm grip on my sides.

"Not yet," he nipped the side of my neck, dropping the shift further until it was well past my waist.

I could feel the warmth of his body through his linen shirt, heightened from arousal and our mere proximity.

"Not—"

I cut off with a sharp breath; the general was tracing lines up and down my left side with his fingertips before easing below my shift.

"Wait," he rested his palm flat against my lower belly,

"Charles—" I didn't finish; the general had moved further and had begun teasing me, first with just the tip of his finger, pressing on and massaging my spot.

"Mmm…" I grasped at my husband's right forearm; it was the only thing keeping me upright. Charles only laughed and nipped the tip of my ear, thrusting two fingers into me.

"You want to tease me and spend me right here?" I panted, distracting him with my own pleasurous responses while I felt behind my back for his breaches until I reached the buttons, and loosened them one by one.

"Perhaps I do," my husband answered before gasping in surprise "Mary!—"

I had completely unbuttoned his breeches and wrapped my hand around him, brushing him up and down with my thumbnail.

"I don't think so," I smirked, earning a sharp bite on my neck. Charles released me briefly, and my shift slid to the floor.

Quickly, the general shed the rest of his clothing and had me again, in a tight hold.

"My dear," he leaned down and kissed me, flicking his tongue over my upper lip . "To bed."

"No," I pulled away, challenging him, tracing a line up and down the middle of his chest with my index finger.

My husband waited no longer and had me roughly against the far left wall of the room.

"Is this what you want?" He braced me firmly, keeping me silent with a kiss.

I moaned into his mouth and let out a throaty laugh. "No—"

Before I could finish my protest, Charles had wrapped my legs tightly around him and had come aggressively into me, stifling my momentary cry of surprise with a hand to my mouth.

"This?" He panted against the side of my head as he braced me with one hand and held my left arm up against the wall with the other, leaving me completely at his whim.

"This-" I answered with a kiss, forcing my way into his mouth just as he started deepening his thrusts. "Not yet; don't finish me…yet."

Charles let out a groan but managed to slow his pacing and depth, kissing me for distraction.

"Perfect," I mouthed, digging my fingernails into his shoulders when he finally let my arm down.

"Bed…"

I was getting close to climax and didn't want to finish on the wall; instead, I'd have my husband finish where I could be comfortable.

Somehow, the general moved both of us to the bed, and gave me just enough time to settle before he continued, holding my hips upward to increase pleasure and depth.

"Love," my breathing caught, ragged, and I started to contract.

Charles only smirked and increased his speed, covering my final cry with a harsh kiss, and reached his climax shortly after.

"Well you surprised me," Charles pulled out and rested on his back, inviting me to lie on top of him. "I thought it would spook you."

I shook my head, still finding my breath. "I just needed the right moment. And I'm safe here, with you."

Charles reached up and stroked the side of my face, brushing his thumb across my lips.

"You are," he kissed me, stroking my sides and back.

"Mmm," I was growing warm once more, and the general quickly rolled me onto my back, meeting me with the same roughness.

"General…." I worked to keep his pace; he had found another sensitive area and was taking full advantage, turning his thrusts from rough play to demands.

"Hush…" Charles briefly covered my mouth with his hand, unable to hide a nasty grin.. "You'll wake the children…"

The general uncovered my mouth and concentrated his attentions on my neck, delivering a sharp nip with each deepening thrust until I was all but shaking beneath him.

"Finish…" I leaned up and encouraged him, biting hard at the soft area between his neck and right shoulder.

Charles let out a cry of surprise, and I chuckled, retracing the area with my tongue before he had me pinned beneath him, his chest flush against me to keep me from rising. Again, he covered my mouth, panting raggedly. His pace was bruising.

"Love," I managed to pull away with a moan when I felt his hands at my breasts, pinching and teasing my nipples until I turned my head away, muffling my cries in the coverlets when I felt the tightening spasms of another climax.

"Look at me," Charles turned my attention back to him, his breathing as unsteady as my own, and met me with a forceful kiss, freeing me enough for me to loop my arms through his and grip at his upper back before he tilted my hips upward and continued, slowing his pace only when my climax encouraged his own.

" _You—"_ Charles closed his eyes and uttered a stifled groan and exhale before coming to rest on top of me, nuzzling under my neck.

"Mmm… Not yet." I urged before he could pull out, for I was still enjoying his release.

The general didn't respond but reached a hand up to gently caress the side of my face.

"You'll bruise," he finally managed to say softly, kissing the warm skin of my throat.

I snickered and tightened our embrace.

"But I _liked it."_


	21. Chapter 21

(Gen. O 'Hara's POV)

The first genuine sleep I'd had in weeks lasted for the rest of the evening until sunrise, with the morning glimmer of light etching itself upon my my face. With a protesting groan, I forced a squint, ducking the sun to look downward. Mary was in a sound sleep, still pressed tightly against me, her right hand splayed on my chest. She had fallen asleep before I could even pull the coverlets up, and they stayed, pooled just below the curve of her hips and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as she mewed incoherently, burrowing further into my chest before tucking one leg up, and missed my groin by less than an inch. After a shallow breath of relief, I slowly put my hand on her leg to keep her from moving further before she slowly opened her eyes and released a quiet sigh, resting her hand over mine.

"You almost got me there," I teased.

Mary was still overcoming sleep and closed her eyes, shaking her head before refocusing.

"Oh?..."

Her expression was innocent but for the spritely glint in her eyes.

" _Oh_?" I echoed.

"Couldn't have been too damaging if I had," she reclined on her back, stretching her arms leisurely above her head, black tresses awry and falling just below her breasts.

"For you, perhaps," I answered with a light kiss, feeling her smile against my mouth.

"Mmm..." She flicked her tongue briefly over my lips. "Kezia will be awake soon, and then Braden and Jaime, and Bryleigh won't want to miss out."

"We've got another hour."

Mary frowned.

"You're pushing it." She answered.

"Only a little," I insisted with a reassuring kiss, feeling her relent beneath me. "If you're well enough..." I pulled away and searched her eyes for discomfort.

"Gently," Mary whispered, reaching up to brush the side of my face with her fingertips before she drew me down closer.

"Love," I returned her request with a kiss, gradually prompting her to let me taste and tease her mouth while she moved her legs to either side of my hips.

"General..."

Still savoring her, I gave her tongue a quick nip and continued to the warmth of her neck, kissing and lightly sucking at a particularly sensitive area around her throat.

Mary tensed and brought her hand to the back of my neck, urging me to continue with a shuddering, pleasured sigh. I paused, watching her close her eyes for a moment and exhale with her lips parted. Her skin grew warm, but she hid it well; just a the barest tinge in her cheeks and a subtly euphoric look in her eyes gave her away.

"Charles..." She mouthed, and arched her body just as I continued my trail of kisses downward from her neck and between her breasts to the middle of her belly...

" _Charles_ ," Mary inhaled sharply when I pressed on her. "I am a little sore...please, slowly."

My response was an unintelligible grunt as I pressed lightly around her entrance with my forefinger, encouraging her heat to rise, eliciting a strangled growl from within her throat. In a moment, my finger was covered in her fluids, now mixed with traces of blood.

"You're bleeding." I looked at her with mingled concern and apology.

"Only just."

" _Mary_ -"

" _Gently_." She coaxed.

"No." I answered, pulling quickly away. "I'll not have you hurt."

Mary shook her head and slowly sat up, gesturing for me to come nearer.

"Charles," she pressed her petite form flush against mine, kissing me slowly, giving me no room for protest.

My intention to argue dissolved and my breath caught; Mary was hot with arousal, and ground her hips against me, pressing me further until I had her on her back, arching against me as she cooed and gasped when I kissed, nipped and bit at her neck.

" _General_ ," She shivered when I pulled away and glanced briefly at her, personally taking satisfaction in watching her fight with her own release.

"Hush," I held a finger to her lips, to which Mary scowled and reached for my wrist in an attempt to pull me off balance, and almost succeeded.

" _Rude_ ," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at me.

"I'm not finished," I answered, settling between her legs.

Mary quaked and clawed at the coverlets, unable to keep her composure.

"Sweet," I purred, tasting her carefully. " Very sweet…and rich. What have you done?"

The lady only returned with a soft cry and reached down for my hand to pull me back to her.

"Please," she breathed in my ear, feeling her way down my stomach to graze me with her fingertips.

I complied with a wordless kiss and came to her slowly. Immediately, Mary released a sharp, pained breath, spasming when I deepened inside her.

"No-"

" _Don't_ ," my wife gripped my forearm, still wincing. "It will pass."

"No," I held my reasoning more firmly, "you will _tear_."

" _Charles_ -"

" _No_ ," I pulled out and Mary sat up, eying me severely, face taught with rage.

"I said _it will pass_ ," she repeated tightly, a thin vein pulsing in the corner of her forehead. All arousal had been put to a jarring halt, and I left the bed, seeking momentary escape in the act of getting dressed.

"And it will… with less harm than otherwise."

"I _wanted_ it!" Mary countered, her voice steadily rising..

"And I _didn't_!" I snapped back.

"You-!"

"You stay there-" I cut her off just as I pulled a clean shirt on and started with my breeches. "I will be downstairs."

"That is not fair!"

"You're going to wake the children," I murmured, turning away from her.

Mary opened and closed her mouth, too incensed yet too cautious to speak, and I quickly finished dressing, hanging my cravat loosely around my neck.

"I will be downstairs."

.


	22. Chapter 22

(Gen. O'Hara's POV continued)

True to my estimation, everyone else in the house was asleep, and I headed straight for the back parlor, easing myself into a comfortable chair near the now-cold fireplace, inhaling slowly as I waited to see if Mary was angry enough to follow or if she would take her time.

"Damn…" I shifted uneasily.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have left."

Mary stood in the vague right corner of my vision, wrapped tightly in one of my robes.

"Milady," I answered lightly, training my gaze on her as she stepped into clearer view, still icy and unwelcoming .

"Why must you watch me like a child?" Mary asked thinly, keeping her arms tightly crossed in front of her.

"I did not intend it as such," I sighed.

"Barring me from every possible harm you can is _not_ going to work, Charles." She stated emphatically. "I am your _wife_ , not your _daughter._ "

"And what if you get caught up in old memories?" I countered.

"I haven't _,"_ Mary clenched her jaw. "Not in months."

"Because we have been _careful_. I have not been rough with you, and I do _not_ want our intimacy to drag you back!" My voice rose an octave. "I am _not_ David."

"So this is my doing?" Mary shot back. "You blame this on _me_?"

"No." I answered quietly.

"Then _what_ ?" She hissed.

"If something happens, everyone else is affected as well; you know this."

"That is _my_ possibility to reckon with, _not_ yours!" Mary answered. "Give me my place, Charles."

After a moment's pause, I reluctantly nodded my assent with a frown.

"Of course. You shall have it. I'm sorry, my dear."

"Then, come to bed?" Mary looked at me with steady determination, though her expression had softened from her formerly severe ire.

"If you wish," I answered hesitantly..

My wife paused, studying me with the barest tilt of her head before turning away and out of the room, while I took my time to follow her, arriving at our room just as she shrugged out of the robe, abandoning it on the floor, and crawled back into bed. Without a word, I pulled off my shirt and joined her, unsure if I should leave her to herself, back turned, or pull her in; luckily, she made the decision, and turned to face me, her expression grim.

"I love you, Charles, I do, but I _cannot_ have you fight all of my battles." She spoke emphatically.

I pursed my lips, unable to respond, and she continued, "Let me heal on _my_ conditions. Please…"

"Of course, you should…" I swallowed.

"Give me my place," Mary repeated, leaning up to indulge in a light kiss. "I have given you yours."


End file.
